Sanguine
by A Nobody
Summary: EGOSHIPPY :: EGOSHIPPING :: In the times of Cowboys and Indians there was Misty Waterflower. Engaged to one man but destined to love another. A fiery passion that was so wrong, yet so right at the same time...
1. Milieu

I'm not cool enough to own Pokemon. Psh.

WARNING! THIS IS NOT INTENDED FOR THE KIDDIES. IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 TURN BACK NOW!

Author's Note: I have new inspiration on the horizon. Still jammin' on my Egoshippy trip, I decided to write another one. I don't really remember when- sometime during the production of Time to Shine- I thought that it would be fun to bring Pokemon to the Wild West! But I did. And I am.

Whole fic will probably be in Misty POV.

I would really love some reviews. I've never attempted an alternate universe deal. Input is always appreciated. Beta Readers are also appreciated. I'm looking for an Egoshippy-lovin person who can stomach lemons. If interested please let me know!

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Sanguine

Chapter 1

...

Milieu

(1 : the physical or social setting in which something occurs or develops)

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My life isn't perfect. Nor is it quaint. Even the wayward loonies know that this isn't exactly the prime way of life. But it's my life and I'll damn well live it. I've met many a lone cowboy who have stared death in the face and told him where to shove it. Way I figure, if they can manage to keep going then I have no reason to complain. Compared to them, I'm living with a silver spoon in my mouth.

My name is Misty Waterflower. I run a saloon along with my older sisters. I don't remember my parents at all, my dad left my mom for a whore and she couldn't take the pain. Daisy says that she was the most beautiful woman on earth, though. I believe that from the bottom of my heart. You see, my sisters are drop dead gorgeous. I'm not humble enough to deny my own beauty, but my sisters are a category all their own. Seriously. They are that beautiful. But, unfortunately, that beauty does come with its own downsides. Us Waterflower sisters are living proof of it.

Growing up without parents was hard. On top of the obvious reasons- like the need of a parent's love- there was the problem of 4 minors who had no money or home. We should've died, to be quite honest, and we would've if not for a miracle.

At the time Daisy was 9, Violet 8, Lily 7 and I was 6. We had been living as street kids for the past 2 years and, honestly, were down on our luck. This is why I said we would've died: no food and winter was a bitch that year. One night we huddled together in an alleyway and fell asleep, hoping that all of us woke up the next morning. Hahaha, well we sure woke up. At the time we had no idea where we were sleeping and we sure as hell didn't care. But when morning eventually hit we were rudely awakened by the woman who would eventually become our savior.

Agatha was an enigma. She wasn't married, didn't want to be married, thought kids were demons yet loved us all the same. To this day I'm still not quite sure why she bothered taking us in. One idea was that she saw potential in us and knew that we'd one day be able to draw in more customers then her entire lineup of entertainers combined. It was a true fact, after all. Another idea was that she knew that her time on earth was coming to its end and wanted to pass on her knowledge along; even if it was to 4 young girls.

Poison was Agatha's pride and joy. The saloon, I mean. Agatha was one of the best pokemon trainers around, but I know that her real passion lied elsewhere. She may've been old, but once the seats started filling up she would easily be able to give all 4 of us a run for our money. She knew everyone's name and their usual choice of drink. It's a tradition I try to continue today.

We were all devastated when Agatha finally died. It was the big joke, when would Old Agatha finally kick the bucket? None of us really thought it would happen. Agatha always seemed immortal almost, as if death feared her more than she feared it. When we were younger she would tell us bed stories about how the Grim Reaper would come for her only to be bitch slapped into next week. I believed it, too. Agatha really could do anything... including getting the last laugh. She had simply said good night and that was that. We didn't even realize she was gone until the customers started showing up and she didn't.

We were Agatha's sole benefactors. By the age of 13 I became a co-owner of a bar. Not only that, but a bar that was infamous for beautiful dancers; who were not trying to be bossed around by Daisy (who was 16), let alone me. Every last girl quit. Damn wenches.

We could have said fuck it and threw in the towel. We could have sold the bar and MAYBE become dignified young women. Obviously we didn't. When it came right down to it, we could never betray the woman who had given us a second chance at life. Poison was her world and it became ours. The first year was rough, hands down. We had no idea what we were doing and nearly went bankrupt trying to learn the game. Keep in mind that we were a group of teenagers. It wasn't until a year later that our luck decided to turn around.

By the second year things had changed. We were beaten and bruised; but wiser. It had nearly killed us, but we made like the phoenix and shed our old skins. Gone were the Waterflower Streetbrats and the world welcomed the Sensational Sisters. We sold off all of the old costumes and dresses that had belonged to the saloon and bought a whole set of new outfits. Our ages ranged from 14-17 and all 4 of us were developing. We weren't fools. Grow up like we did and you learn exactly how much sex can sell. By the end of that year we had made back all of the money we had lost and then some.

But it wasn't until the third year when everything finally fell into place. Up until then all four of us had worked behind the bar. It was ridiculously unnecessary, though. I was easily able to handle it alone even during the big rushes. Not that Lily, Violet and Daisy were _Bad _bartenders; they were just slower than me. Literally, it took the three of them combined to match my speed when it came to mixology. And my drinks still tasted better to boot!

So what did we do? We bought a handy, self playing piano and finally brought back a Poison staple, sexy dancers. My sisters were amazing. They were naturals up there and knew exactly how to move their bodies, it was hard to believe that they were only 16-18 years old. But then again, I was a 15 year old bartender. Go figure.

Fast forward 5 years and here we are. Poison stands strong and so do we. Me and my sisters have gone through a lot together and we have just as much to show for it. We run the most successful bar in the region and, honestly, are some of the most desired women alive. We never hired any help and the 4 of us have run this business all on our own from the time we were children. If you ask me, that's pretty damn impressive. Hahaha, I wonder if Agatha would agree. You know, she's been dead for 8 years now but I still feel like she's here, watching over us. Probably making sure we don't screw up her bar. But, whatever the reason, I have an inkling suspicion that she's out there somewhere, frowning down on us. Not in a bad way! Agatha was just never one for smiling.

Oh, did I mention the wenches? After Poison got famous again they all suddenly showed up one night, wanting their jobs back. Well, that didn't really work. I sort of remember throwing bottles at their heads and losing myself in sailor speak. I was a little drunk that night. But just a little. Hahaha, I refuse to feel bad about it. Females got what they deserved.

Damn bitches.


	2. Gloze

I'm not cool enough to own Pokemon. Psh.

WARNING! THIS IS NOT INTENDED FOR THE KIDDIES. IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 TURN BACK NOW!

Author's Note: Hey hey hey! I hope everyone's doing ok. Personally, I'm having a blast. I'm kind of excited to get this fic underway. Too many ideas keep hitting me and as soon as I actually note it (in the fat notebook of potential story ideas) I get hit with a whole different idea for the same scenario! Hahahaha.

It's fun to have Badass Misty. I'm trying to stay true to the core of all of the characters (I'll overload you with them this chapter) I use, but I also want to tweak the dynamics to make it work in my pokeverse. If anyone feels like I stray too far from making any sort of sense please let me know, ok?

You know, I put up warnings in front of all of my chapters but I figured I'd make a last ditch effort to dissuade any virgin eyes from going any further. This story is rated M for a reason: there will be rape; there will be lovemaking; there will be casual sex; there will be alcoholics being alcoholics; there will be bad people. I don't want to be flamed for these kind of things when they come up. So if you're still intending to continue reading on after taking in my warning then I have no other choice but to welcome you with open arms!

Lastly, reviews. Anyone who's ever read anything from me will vouch when I say that I'm a review whore. I need/CRAVE them. Hahaha.

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Sanguine

Chapter 2

...

Gloze

(1 : to mask the true nature of : give a deceptively attractive appearance to)

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Gin and tonic to the old guy in the back; Screwdriver to the new guy- Rum for the girl he's hoping to score with tonite- and a double Whiskey Sour for my head. The rush is just as potent as it is any night and I have my work cut out for me. I try to remember to smile graciously, helps win over some fat tips, but sometimes I just want to show the grosser pervs exactly what these heels can do to a man's anus.

I used to hate dressing up. I despised the fact that it connected me to the brothel girls. Yeah yeah, I know that man is not supposed to judge and all the bullshit. But let's face it: the rules are written by men for men. Obviously the big wigs in charge never had to wear a corset. But that's besides the point. Me, dressing up, yeah. Well, I really couldn't stand it. Sure, I may've grown up in a bar but I have morals. I'm not a loosey goosey night walker and, for a while, I felt like I had to prove it to the whole damn world. I aimed to set myself apart from the pack in the world of critical, cutthroat women of the wild west. It was actually easier then one might think.

I adopted a take no crap attitude. Unlike those _other_ women, I wasn't afraid to raise my voice. I spoke my mind and didn't give two shits if it offended anyone. I still do to this day. Also, I grew my hair out. It might not seem like much, but it really is. Most girls either have their hair super short or contort it with bobby pin overdosed hairstyles. I still get funny looks from old timers when they see my long, flowing hair. It kind of cracks me up, really. But what really sets me apart is something much deeper then physical beauty. I care. When a grieving patron comes in I become their shoulder to cry on. That alone is something that just comes with the bartending territory; unless you're a shitty bartender, in which case you would probably let someone drink themselves into alcohol poisoning. But back to my original point! What really gets people is that they can come back to the bar a week, even a month, later and I'll still remember their face. I remember their problems and always ask how it's working out.

And just like that I went from being another girl in a sexy little number to actually gaining respect and becoming one of the guys... in a sexy little number.

"Lookin' good tonight Misty." I heard from my left.

"Not so bad yourself, Casanova." I winked.

"Yeah right. If I could wrangle in women that easy I wouldn't hang out here so much."

"It's ok, Brock. I'll get you the usual."

Brock was a regular. A young gunslinger who always seemed to be down on his luck when it came to the fairer sex. Not that he didn't have any! Sex, I mean. But, as many a drunk man has told, a whore's lovin' always seems to be a little much on the sweet side. It's just not how it's supposed to work. Or so I'm told. Maybe I just got lucky? Oh well, more on that later, back to Brock.

I'm convinced that his problem stems from some hybrid of paranoia and massive OCD. Whenever Brock sees a beautiful woman (and all women are beautiful in this part of town)he shuts down. He envisions her as this ethereal, larger than life, being and has it set in his head that she could be "the one" if he could only keep the boner at bay and approach her. That's where things get problematic. He wants everything to be so perfect that he fears any kind of deviation from his fantasy. That little fear usually builds up in his head and makes him paranoid that it will all get fucked up and that paranoia causes him to just freeze. He gets hearts in his eyes and floats around, saying the most idiotic things, as if he were a possesed man. I can honestly say that I can't even recognize him when he gets like that.

"Sometimes I think I'm destined to die alone, Mist. Seriously, I'm 22 and still single. Most guys my age are married with beautiful brides who are poppin out babies by the dozen!" Brock lamented, accepting his drink.

"You'll find the one. Just give it time."

"Easy for you to say. You'll probably be pregnant by the time your next birthday rolls around." He grumbled.

I winked and walked off. I felt bad, leaving my friend in such a shitty mood, but there were other customers to attend to. Besides, the real reason Brock was here wasn't for my small talk. Like the rest of the penis-driven men in the city, Brock was infatuated with my sisters. He can literally sit here all night watching them do the same routines over and over. But then again, so can most men. I served up another table and went on to the next one. I raised my eyebrow at the occupants of the table and crossed my arms.

"So why the hell're you two stinkin' up my bar with your 2 cent skanky sex stench?"

Remember when I mentioned the bitches who bailed on Poison then tried to come back? Yeah, the ones I scared away with my bottle throwing prowess. Well some females tend to be smarter then others. Case and point: Jenny and Joy. When I told (screamed at) them to never come back the message apparently didn't quite compute. Jenny and Joy were two of Poison's former dancers who got famous for dressing up in cop and nurse suits, respectively, and were the main breadwinners for the bar back in the day. But that day has long since past and, to be honest, just seeing them in front of me makes me imagine some gruesome ass kickings I could take part in. Heh. My temper has a flair for getting the best of me at times.

"You're sure getting big, Misty. It's been so long." Joy said with fake sincerity.

"Sure has. Last time I saw you, I had just nailed you in the shoulder with a bottle of cheap vodka. Did you need stitches?" I asked in a fake voice of my own.

Guess they didn't want to play. The older women's smiles dropped only to be replaced with looks of contempt.

"We just wanted to congratulate you on your engagement. Hope nothing... unfortunate... happens to you. I mean to your engagement." Jenny smiled cattily.

And then they were gone. Well, good riddance if you ask me. Althought they "meant well" it was just much better that they stay the hell away from me, my sisters and Poison in general. I don't have the patience for their bullshit and have shown that I have no scruples about getting into bar fights of my own. I'm the one that cleans the damned floors anyway. And what the fuck was up with them actually wishing me good luck on my engagement? I know those two, there's no way that either of them would EVER feel any kind of happiness at the thought of another woman being happy. I know that it sounds like I'm being harsh and bitter or whatever. But I'm not. As I've grown up in the typical red light district I'd like to think that I've picked up some knowledge here and there about human nature and promiscuous women.

Not all women are poor and not all poor women are whores and, surely, not all whores are empty shells. BUT there is a shred of truth to the idea it conveys. If you replaced the words "not all" with the word "most" and reread that sentence you'd be looking at the truth to the world I live in. Is it a tragedy? Yeah. Do I accept it? Sure. Do I like it? Not a chance. But it's reality. On our own, women aren't exactly rich. We aren't supposed to work and haven't the means to live the rich lifestyle even if we had the money to do so. Why, you ask? SImple. If a woman is unmarried but has enough money to live in a better part of town its pretty damned obvious how she collected the funds. You'd be treated like a blood sucking parasite and excluded from the inner circle of rich. You wouldn't recieve invites to the teatime luncheon or whatever waste of time activities rich women did.

Honestly, who wants to be an outcast?

No one, that's who. It may not be a romantic or glamourous lifestyle living here, but at least you're never alone. You have your fellow parasites to gossip with and temporarilly forget the troubles of the truth. Let's take Joy and Jenny, for example. They are frigid, hollow women. And I really don't mean that derrogatively; live the life they've had and see if you're any better! But anyways, although they are frigid and hollow they are loyal as hell to each other. In a world where every female is looking to one up you a good friend is priceless. The fact that Jenny and Joy can depend on each other makes _their_ reality a little less empty. And even if I don't like the bitches at all, I can honestly respect them for continuing to live on even with the demons that I know they have.

Let me clear one thing up right now. I'm a parasite. I may not be a brothel girl, but we're all in the same boat. I would be an ignorant son of an inimical Jynx if I actually said (and believed) that the Sensational Sisters were any better than any of the other girls in the area. I'm well aware that most of the customers here are married men. Do I advise them to go back to their waiting wives? Hell no. I booze 'em up and grin as I watch them ogle my sisters, silently guessing at how much they'll tip if I "accidently" let my skirt ride up a little as I put their drink on the table. It's way too easy to romanticize my life to make it seem like something it's not; it also helped my conscious back when I had one. Like I've been trying to say all along: I'm just as much as a soiled dove as the rest of the women in this part of town; but I'm not a whore. I don't feel the need to get extra cash by selling my body. I make enough money on tips alone to be able to buy myself any kind of anything that I so well please.

Damn, here I am getting off topic again. I put down another faceless customer's drink and took a deep breath. The main rush was finally starting to clear out and I met Daisy's eyes with a grin. She looked pretty tired- not that one would be able to tell unless you knew her well enough- and I'm willing to bet that she's ready to take a breather. Not too long afterwards I heard the door open again. Late night bastards. As much as you want to bitch them out about how we're due to close in 5 minutes you can't. Word spreads like wildfire and the last thing ANY place wants is to have a reputation for unpleasant women. Why bother go to somewhere unpleasant when there's something sweeter right across the street?

"Yoo hoo! Anybody home?"

No way. It wasn't...

"Wallace!" I squealed.

For a second I forgot about being a hot young bartender. I ran into the man's arms like an excited little kid. A few of the resident drunks gave us a funny look, but who gave a shit what they thought. They were probably hardening down below wishing that it was them that I was hugging. Fucking lecherous pervs... I mean, _dear customers_. Psh. There goes my infamous temper again. Oh well, even my temper wouldn't keep me down right now. It was like being sky high without the drugs or orgasms. I gave Wallace an extra squeeze before dragging him to the bar and making a quick Mojito, his favorite drink, before grabbing a beer for myself and joining him. I know it's not exactly the smartest of things to do, I'm supposed to be on duty for a little longer, but I doubt I'd be getting any more customers tonight anyway.

"Wallace, I haven't heard from you in months! Why the hell didn't you tell me you were coming?" I demanded.

"No time, Darling. I heard the news and rushed right over to congratulate you. You'll be a beautiful bride if I say so myself."

He then brought his lips to my ear.

"You absolutely must let me make your dress." He whispered.

Wallace was the piano player at Poison when Agatha was still alive. He could play a mean ballad, but was also one of my best friends growing up. There's a 10 year age gap between us but he never treated me like an innocent child. He probably knew better. Anyways, I never questioned it when I was younger but I eventually accepted the fact that Wallace was gay after he confessed to me after a night of drinking. It didn't matter to me then and it doesn't bother me at all now. But, at the same time, I feel bad for him and what he's had to go through. Being gay just doesn't fly. People act as if it's some kind of disease and that, with enough brute force, the mind can be cured... or some kind of propoganda bullshit like that.

Wallace is still in the closet.

It's pretty obvious though. For starters, Wallace is the best dressed man I have ever met in my life. No joke. He wears the basic cowboy getup (he told me once that it makes him feel cool) but with a twist, snake skin. I don't even want to know how many Arboks died just to make his chaps. Heh, he loves the hell out of those damned chaps, though. But yeah, moving on. Wallace has this way of talking that is just... odd. It's perfectly clear and all, but most guys don't walk around calling each other "Darling." Personally, I think its cute. Society didn't agree. But, as I'm once again reminded, Agatha was one of the smartest people who ever walked the earth. She knew. Of course.

When I was 12 I remember Agatha calling an employee meeting. Strange, there used to be actual employees here. Sure as fuck ain't that way now, HA. But at this meeting she told us all that Wallace would be leaving us. Apparently she had a friend named Juan who was looking for an apprentice. Juan was a legendary water pokemon trainer; Wallace would have been a fool to turn it down.

Oh, I forgot to mention the pokemon! Wallace became one of my best friends growing up because we shared a common bond. Water pokemon. I have no idea why, but I've always been drawn to them. Never really had time for pokemon, though. Under most circumstances, only the rich can train pokemon. Agatha was an exception and so was Wallace. He wasn't very good, but he caught himself an army of water pokemon anyway. This back knowledge makes it easier to understand why this was the chance of a lifetime for Wallace. Personally, I think Agatha had her own personal reasons for setting it up. Wallace had been 22 and still had not found a suitable girl and people were starting to get suspicious. Then there was the fact that Juan was gay, as Wallace later told me. Agatha sure as hell knew all of this when she got Wallace the apprenticeship. She cared, I'm sure of it.

"What're you thinking about?" Wallace asked me.

"You, actually. And Agatha." I smiled wanly.

"I can't believe it's already been 7 years." He sighed.

"No kidding."

The next time I saw Wallace after then was at the funeral. About a year had passed since he left and I worried that he'd forgotten about me. I was a dumbass. Wallace walked right over to me and we hugged, cried and talked. He offered to leave Juan to help us run Poison. Thankfully, I talked him out of it. He made the same offer quite a few times throughout the first few years. He's such a sweetie, I'm convinced that I would have married him if he had been born straight. Hahaha, now that would be a strange ass marraige. We promised to stay in touch and, believe it or not, managed to do so. Wallace would stop by every few months and stay with us for a week or so before leaving again. He's done this religiously since that day at the funeral and will continue to the day one of us dies; I'm sure of it.

"Whoo! Now that was a night!"

Everyone had finally cleared out and my sisters finally got a break. They came over ot join us, each of them giving Wallace a hug. Wallace was friends with my sisters, but not like us. They never really held stable conversations and they didn't know his secret.

"You looked spectacular, though." Wallace smiled.

I smiled as they started a conversation of their own. It wasn't long until Violet coaxed Wallace into playing a song on the piano, she was always a sucker for musicians. He started off playing a really happy tune but it quickly changed into a haunting melody. It reminded me of life. Damned depressing life. I continued listening and suddenly felt like a bad person. I know I shouldn't, my sisters have told me as much repetitively, but I do. It brings me back to the same old musings I've been having. About this life and the women that live it. It can be an empty existence and fucked up things have been known to happen. We're no angels, nor are we rich, proper women that you bring home to mom. I'll tell you one thing, though. We have _substance_, stories about all shapes and types of characters. We live our lives and deal with action and reaction, the consequences of our courses of action. It would take 50 prim women to match the charm and wit of one of our own. And as much as we want to be proud of ourselves it just doesn't work that way. There's a longing to join mainsream society and become one of the rich bitchy elite. We despise yet we desire, a natural contradiction.

There's only one real way to escape. If you marry into society the others have no choice but to accept you. Funny thing about the rich. They're too damn polite for their own good. They could loathe a person to their very core yet still invite them to Sunday brunch if they were a functioning part of society. A big load of bullshitters if you ask me. But it's this same bullshit nature that we count on when we marry into their world.

I mentioned earlier that a woman could have all the money in the world but still be an outcast. No friends, no backing, no need to be treated nicely. Women, regardless of their status, never appreciate a beautiful, UNMARRIED young woman moving in down the street. But the tides change when you get married. Men dominate society. If one man approves of a woman and marries her then the opinion of every woman in the city becomes invalid. She could be a total slut in reality; if the man declares her an angel then, dammit, an angel she becomes. Because of this loophole many a street walker has gone on to join the elite. It's pretty pathetic. They change everything about themselves just to become the wife of some rich man who wants a hot piece of ass to come home to every night. Talk about betrayal of the soul.

"So, are us bad folk even allowed to come to your wedding?" I heard.

"It doesn't matter. You're coming and if people want to bitch then they can get the hell out of the chapel." I shrugged.

Yes it's true. I'm one of those pathetic soul betrayers. I'm set to get married in 3 days time. I have some serious mixed feelings about this. My sisters are my world: they mean more to me then life itself. We've been each other's mothers, sisters and best friends for most of our lives and I feel like a plain old heartless bitch for leaving them and Poison behind after everything we've been through. They've all assured me that they're happy for me and want me to escape this world... but it just doesn't feel right. Not that I don't love my fiance- he's amazing through and through- it's just that they're more important to me than he is. Not that I'd ever admit that aloud. The world dictates that there should be NOTHING more important to a woman than her husband. I beg to differ. My husband didn't go to hell and back with me. Sorry, but my sisters will always come out on top. So shoot me.

"So where is that fiance of your's anyway?" Wallace asked, eyebrow raised.

Somehow I get the idea that he wants to _judge_ him with his own eyes.

"He said something about the badlands before taking off this morning."

"Mmmm, I heard that there was trouble up there lately." Wallace nodded.

"Seriously, like how do you just know everything?" Lily asked.

I laughed and took a sip of my drink. Then I remembered that my sisters had just gotten off shift and were probably dying of thirst. I got up and headed to the bar to make some drinks for them. It's kind of funny, because we live at a bar we all drink like alcohol-happy fish. Fuckin' tolerance of steel man, no doubt. One random night around closing Brock made the mistake of challenging us to a drink off. Like I said, Brock is a regular: he drinks a lot of alcohol and was feeling pretty confident. Heh. Oh, about 5 shots later he was slurring like belligerent fool and we were barely breaking a sweat. When the 10 shot mark came around he threw in the towel. Chalk one up for the Sensational Sisters. They gratefully took the Margaritas I offered and chugged them down in one gulp. I blinked. Sure, having high tolerance is great but is it really normal for 3 tiny women to be able to just chug alcohol like that? Feh, fuck it. Their livers.

"So Mr. Sheriff is off playing the hero? Well, let's hope he doesn't get killed. We don't want you to be widowed before you even get to escape!" Daisy teased.

Her joke was funny but it's definitely a bittersweet kind of thing. My fiance is the sheriff. It makes him one of the richest men in town, but it also puts his life in danger constantly. But he's just that kind of guy. Do or die, keep the world positive, justice and the like. I'm not really political, but even I know that by taking down even one outlaw he's making the world that much easier to live in. Especially in our charming red light district. I'm not going to lie and say that I've never served a drink to a fugitive. I have and it is a shitty experience. You sit there on edge all night until he finally ups and leaves, only paying some of the time. And that's the best case scenario. I've learned that he scraggly, scruffy outlaws are usually up front with what they want. If they want a beer you get 'em a beer. If they want sex you refer them to the brothel nearby and tell them to ask for the 3 for 1 special (special code that lets the madame know who she's dealing with).

The outlaws to look out for are the charming ones. It's a rarity but those kind of men do exist. Young and good looking by itself is a deadly combo, but add in Wanted posterboy... WHOO! You have one hell of a problem on your hands. Why, you ask? Outlaws who are charismatic are the ones who will stab you in the back without a seconds notice. Because they are so charming you let your guard down and easily forget that there is a reason that these men are on Wanted posters. But it doesn't mean that _they_ do. You can go from making small talk to being on the wrong end of a gun in a matter of seconds. That's about the time that you realize that you've been played for a fool and they were counting on you falling into their trap. Plotting, deceit. Now that's what I call scary. Honestly, compared to that, I'd take the "traditionally" scary fugitive any day of the week.

"I also heard that Gary Oak's band has been spotted nearby." Wallace supplied.

"I wouldn't take that one too seriously. People claim to see Oak everyday; they seem to think that just seeing him will entitle them to some of the reward." Violet said with an eye roll.

"If he ever gets caught." Lily added.

Among the most amicable outlaws is a man named Gary Oak. Personally, I've never met him but the legends have even made their way to me. He's supposed to have the body of a god and the wit of a Sneasel. His claim to fame was the ever original holding up trains gig. Apparently he got so good at it that he quickly went from being a blip on the map to a full blown beeping alert. That's about the time he hit urban legend status. Sheriffs and deputies everywhere started a manhunt for Gary Oak and his group. Actually, the full circus consists of 6 men with Gary acting as the ringleader, but not much is known on the other 5 members. Gary Oak himself has been public enemy number 1 for a while now; probably due in part to the fact that he makes today's law system look like a bunch of bumbling dipshits. He's avoided capture time and time again, only adding fuel to the fire. There's a huge reward on his head that seems to raise every week or so- quite a few zeroes were tacked on last time I checked- and now even Oak's reward itself has become the stuff of legends.

"I'm pretty sure that I would've heard about it if Oak was nearby." I said as Daisy nodded.

"You sure would, huh?"

It was no mystery that my fiance is Gary Oak's ultimate rival. It's because of that fact that I know so much about Oak to begin with. Oddly enough, the two men share a couple of parallels. For starters, they both just appeared out of nowhere and went straight to the top in their line of business seemingly overnight. Then there's the fact that they're both right around 20, same age as myself, yet ridiculously skilled at what they do. Personally I think that they're both too skilled for their own good. Why can't they just want to be pokemon masters or something? They've met face to face on a couple of different occasions, but Oak somehow manages to sneak away each time. They have a strange understanding in regards to one another as well. On one end, I know that the sheriff will never stop until Gary is thrown into jail for life. I've also heard through the grapevine that Gary Oak has said that no one would ever catch him; but if one man could, it would definitely be my fiance.

And I believe it too. When my fiance talks about his goals he gets a fire in his eyes that I find very hard to believe has nothing to do with sex. I asked him about it once and he started sputtering everywhere and told me I was crazy. Whatever. But I honestly think that he could touch he sun if he wanted to. He just has this vibe about him that makes you want to see him succeed. And, like I've been saying, his current goal is to finally put Gary Oak, public enemy number 1, behind bars. There is no doubt in my mind that he will succeed. The two men will probably meet in an abandoned town and fight it out to the end. It'll be a super battle between good and evil, the righteous and the wicked! Hahaha, now I'm getting ahead of myself. What I should really be thinking about now is my wedding. Three days will go by faster than sex with a horny monk... I'll bet anything that Gary Oak doesn't have a level 100 Pikachu.

After all, my fiance, the sheriff, is Ash Ketchum.


	3. Requiem

I'm not cool enough to own Pokemon. Psh.

Author's Note: Ok, I know it was pretty obvious that Ash was the mysterious fiance but whatever. This chapter will be mostly told in memory format. It'll showcase Ash and Misty's relationship and show how they ended up engaged. This is probably the most AAMR I'll ever do at once; it's sickening. I'm sure that most can guess my opinion on this particular relationship. But it can't be avoided. Ash and Misty are almost _too_ perfect to leave out. So yeah, behold my one attempt at something resembling Pokeshippy!

This chapter also happens to feature the first of my lemons. I've been feeling kind of sadistic lately (blame it on finals week) and some might not agree with what happens in some of the events this chapter around. I can deal with that. I just ask that, if you must flame, could you make it constructive? "YOU SUCK" is very boring. This story has a M rating for a reason: I don't feel like making a PG romanticized version of the outlaw lifestyle.

Kudos to 1angelette and Lady Rosses! Thank you for the reviews!

Review away, but please don't ask me to convert this story to Pokeshippy. It won't happen.

* * *

Sanguine

Chapter 3

...

Requiem

(1 : a mass for the dead)

* * *

I laughed at another random joke with a smile on my face. All of the regulars knew that I was getting married soon and were trying to make small talk with me before it was too late. It's hard to believe that, in 2 days, I won't be the bartender of Poison anymore. This is tons more than just a job to me; it's more of a lifestyle, and I've met and made friendships with people that I just assumed would last a lifetime. Unfortunately, functioning women of society aren't allowed to be bartenders in the "bad part of town." What bullshit. I know that people tend to fear the drunks that practically live here, but I know that they'd be the ones who'd fight off any _real_ threats. Like I said, I'm one of the guys and the guys are my friends. And anyone will tell you that it's a bitch to find a decent bartender once you've grown accustomed to a certain person... and I know that I'll miss them too. Honestly, I'm scared out of my wits when it comes to my wedding. Not because of what I'll have to become- please, hanging out with dull bitchy snobs is a cakewalk compared to the strippers I see daily- but because of what I'll lose. Is it all worth it? I still can't say that I know it is.

But I'll still do it for him.

**_The bar was running low on bottles. I remember doing a mini inventory check that afternoon and bitching at Daisy because she was supposed to have restocked everything the day before. But, whatever the case, it was now me and not Daisy making my way to the docks. The docks is the place to go to get good quality things for cheap- for the most part, at least. Travelling merchants come and go on their boats and are always quick to present you with the latest and greatest things from the other regions of the world. You're almost always able to haggle the price down; especially if you buy things in bulk, like cases of liquor. Poison was opening for the night in about an hour and I knew that I had to be quick. I skimmed the area and found myself being drawn to a booth that had a dancing Meowth out front. Surely that was an amazingly trained Meowth. Damn I want a pokemon._**

**_"Hello! What can we do for you today?"_**

**_As soon as I came near two people popped out from the shadows: a woman with long red hair and a man with shoulder length purple hair._**

**_"Umm, I just need-" I started but was cut off._**

**_"A new dress! We have the newest styles and will give you a real bargain!" The man said._**

**_"Hahaha! Surely you come for a dress! The one you have on is so last season." The woman added coyly; I decided that I didn't like her much._**

**_"No. Actually, I just need alcohol. Lots of it." I said squarely._**

**_It always cracks me up to watch people's reactions when I say that. It's as if they've never heard a young woman stocking up. Hahaha. Well, these merchants were no different. The purple haired man gave a suprised squeak before running back onto their ship; the woman, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow and looked rather amused by my request. She was a hard one to read. I knew from the minute I met her that she was smart. Arrogant, probably manipulative and defintely smart. That was all I was able to decipher before I saw the man running back with a piece of paper in his hands. He thrust it into my face, annoying as hell I'll add, and I saw that it was a list of everything they had in back. I told the man what I wanted- I didn't trust the woman, personally- and he ran off again. I was once again left with the conniving bitch woman. Yippee._**

**_"You've asked for cases of the most expensive brands. I hope you have the money to pay for it." She said suspiciously._**

**_"You know, worrying too much will turn your hair gray." I jabbed._**

**_She stayed silent until her partner came back with the goods. He quoted me a price that was so fucking cheap that I didn't even have to haggle. I brought out my wallet and opened it; that's about the time that the merchants' eyes bugged out._**

**_"No wonder you wanted the good stuff, you sure can afford it." I shrugged._**

**_"Well, a saloon's only as good as the quality of the drinks served."_**

**_"Saloon?" I was asked curiously._**

**_"Yeah, I run a pub with my sisters. Most of our customers are rich old men who love to tip a pretty lady." I said proudly._**

**_"Run only by women? Sounds fascinating." The woman said._**

**_"You should come check us out. It's called Poison; ask around, you'll find it."_**

**_The woman shared a look with the man before turning back to me and grinning._**

**_"We just might do that."_**

I know that Daisy has something up her sleeve for tomorrow night. She's been spreading the word about my so called going away party to anyone who would listen. Nevertheless, she won't tell me a thing about it. Fuckin' weak if you ask me. But, at the same time, it's one of the most thoughtful things ever. She knows how much everyone means to me and to have them all together on the night before my wedding is freaking awesome! Most of my friends won't be able to see me in the white dress, so I _think_ that there's going to be something crazy to make up for it. I saw Daisy whispering away to Wallace when she thought I wasn't looking; from the looks of it tomorrow's going to be a night no one will be forgetting.

Speaking of Wallace! He's staying with us until after the wedding. I managed to talk him out of staying at a hotel last night. I mean, seriously, why the hell would he go to a hotel when he could stay with 4 beautiful women who adore him to death? It was funny. After my sisters went to bed last night I challenged Wallace to a drinking contest. We were giggling like nympho schoolgirls until the sun came up. Seeing him there on the piano is something else, I sometimes forget how good he is. Some of Poison's loyalest customers recognized him and welcomed him back. That was pretty decent of them. Especially considering that a part of the reason he left was because of the way people were starting to treat him. How quickly we forget. That's one of the things I really love about drunks.

I heard the door open and turned to look at the customer, a smile breaking out.

**_Disbelief was pretty damn evident on my face. The night had started out average enough: normal crowd, fast pace, lots of tips, an all around good time. But out of nowhere a fat smog cloud appeared in the saloon, causing a mean coughing fit for everyone inside. I know that I didn't leave anything lying around that could catch fire, so what the hell was going on?!? I heard laughing coming from the entrance and my head snapped. I knew those voices. Before I could figure out exactly who's voices they were I heard screaming coming from the stage. I saw a vicious looking Seviper making its way to my frightened sisters. I got up to help them, but by now the smog was disappearing and I saw that there were quite a few bloodthirsty looking pokemon nearby. It was probably best to stay put. I guess this means that this is a stick up._**

**_"Prepare for trouble!"_**

**_"And make it double!"_**

**_I refocused my attention to the entrance and gasped. The merchants from the boat! My shock quickly turned into annoyance, though. I know that I'm supposed to be all scared and shit but with this motto I'm having a hard time taking these guys seriously. I kind of tuned out but was back at attention when I heard Team Rocket. I had heard of Team Rocket; they were an infamous group of thieves who stole whatever they could get their dirty hands on. Rumor has it that the mysterious leader had been recruiting left and right, upset that he had been replaced as Public Enemy Number 1, and was trying to fuck up everyone's shit. And with reason! Team Rocket had been sitting on Wanted posters for YEARS before Gary Oak mysteriously appeared out of nowhere. But seriously. Jesse and James? You have to be kidding me. Isn't anyone original nowadays?_**

**_"Everybody empty your pockets and no one gets hurt!"_**

**_A talking Meowth? Didn't see that one coming._**

**_"NOW! There aren't any bouncers here, so don't count on being saved." Jesse remarked cattily._**

**_These bitches used me! It all suddeny fell into place: the questions about the expensive alcohol and the bar being run by women! They were planning to raid Poison the second they saw the innards of my fucking coinpurse! Shit, the boat probably wasn't even their's- no wonder the liquor was so cheap- I'll bet anything that they stole the boat from some poor merchant! And now here they were, terrorizing my customers, who were throwing their wallets into a burlap sack. Poor drunk schmucks. I didn't lie when I said that most of my clients were rich, old men. It was pretty obvious that these guys weren't really used to dealing with this kind of situation. And it's my fault. I gave them the name of the bar and even invited them over! In my defense, how the hell was I supposed to know that they were Team Rocket members? But, whatever the case, these bitches used me!_**

**_And that just wasn't going to fly._**

I wasn't surprised to see Ash walk through the door. He had gotten back from the badlands earlier in the day and sent a messenger over here to tell me to expect him. Just by looking at his face I could tell exactly what happened up there... nothing. He probably arrested a few small time criminals that weren't even smart enough to snuff their campfires. I know for a fact that nothing interesting happened. Whenever Ash catches someone worth while he runs over here to tell me himself the minute he gets back to town. My guess is that he knew that his story sucked and decided to just get the boring paperwork overwith. After all, I have a few interesting outlaw stories of my own. I'm not the type of girl who will gasp dramatically at the word "dangerous" and Ash knows it. On the other hand...

"Hello May, will you be drinking tonight?" I asked.

"No no, women shouldn't drink. Oh forget that, I'm feeling daring! Get me a Shirley Temple pronto!"

I made sure to wait until my back was turned before rolling my eyes.

May was the daughter of the mayor. She was rich in every sense. She was the epitome of what I was fated to become. And, to top it off, she had it bad for Ash. I'm serious, she's been on his nuts since the day he strolled on into town. Apparently, the word "engaged" doesn't mean anything to her, considering that she's here with him. Because of her I kind of wish that Ash had kept our engagement secret. Ever since it was announced May has shown up here almost every night. I think she has it in her head that, if she has a little more "bad girl appeal" or whatever it is that I possess, Ash will suddenly realize that she's the girl for him. I suppose it's a legit theory, except that she doesn't follow it. Sure, she graces us with her presence but she doesn't drink, which is bullshit considering that this is a _SALOON_, and she makes too much of a damn spectacle of herself. She wants to be seen here, as if it's a merit of some sort, whereas everyone else just wants to drink and chill. It's like she's some sort of poser soiled dove. Only no one's buying it. Rich girl has no idea what it really means to be one of us.

But I wonder, if I spiked her Shirley would it shut her up for once?

**_By this time Team Rocket had getten a hold of wallet #10 I was shaking in anger. Now we all know how wonderful my anger management skills are. Actually, considering the fact that I was taken advantage of, I think I'm actually doing a fair enough job at keeping the smoke from flying out of my ears. I heard James mumble something about the real treasure before leaving Jesse's side. Honestly, I didn't pay him too much heed. It's obvious that Jesse is the real brains of the operation and I watched her like a hawk as she and her Lickitung made the rounds. If anyone was stupid enough to fight back Lickitung instantly paralyzed them; poor Brock was lying on the floor, motionless. I want to get up and fucking kick all of them in the jewels, Jesse included, but knew that it's practically suicide. Thing with Team Rocket is that they honestly have no scruples with killing._**

**_And then I heard Lily scream._**

**_As I watched Jesse and Lickitung I had totally forgotten about James. I had just pegged him as the harmless one. Damn was I wrong. On the stage Meowth and James were at work. Daisy and Violet were sitting huddled in a corner, hugging each other as Meowth stood an inch away, claws extended with a feral look on his face. But Lily was the real damsel in distress. James had her backed into a wall and held her there by using his own body as a weight. One of his hands was thrust down the front of her dress, exploring on its own free will, while the other was hiked up into her skirt. I couldn't really see where it was because his body- midsection to be precise- was blocking the view; but I had a good guess, Lily wouldn't scream like that over nothing. Another tell tale sign was in the way that that particular arm was speedily moving up and down. I almost cried at the sight: even from behind the bar I could see how rough he was being- Lily's actual body was moving up and down from the force; I don't even want to know how many fingers he was using. His head was ravaging her neck like it was Thanksgiving feast and he didn't show any signs of stopping ANY of it soon. Lily was staring into nothingness, silent tears falling down her face._**

**_Fuck suicide. I saw red._**

**_"GET THE FUCK OFF HER!" I screamed._**

**_I grabbed the two nearest bottles and threw them at James' body, not caring about the consequences. I just had to get that asshole off of Lily before he decided to take it further! Seviper and Arbok both jumped at me and I quickly ducked, grabbing two more bottles and breaking them both on the ground. I sprung up and stabbed the two snakes with the jagged bottles. Fuck, by this point I do not give a DAMN if I seriously hurt them. The snakes both fell to the ground, blood gushing. Weezing charged at me next and I jumped over the bar, narrowly avoiding death by mere inches. But, like I said, living is not on my mind right now. I grabbed Brock's now vacated stool and swung it, slamming Jesse in the head. I ran past her and kept swinging, hitting charging pokemon as I made my way to the stage. Meowth tried getting in my way but I kicked it like the gross football it is and grinned sadisticly as it hit the wall full impact. I threw my stool at James, who had released Lily by now, and grabbed more bottles; throwing them and grabbing more._**

**_I didn't expect James to tackle me._**

**_The bottles dropped from my hands and I fell to the ground with James on top of me. I suddenly felt worse for Lily as I felt James' blatantly bulging penis dig into my leg. I guess I made some sort of disgusted face because I saw James' eyes light up with an idea. In all the chaos everyone had escaped, leaving me alone with Team Rocket. I suddenly saw Lickitung over me and knew what was coming. It's a strange thing to be paralyzed. I can feel things, like James' lips on mine, but I can't move my body to turn away._**

**_"You shouldn't have ruined my fun."_**

**_I couldn't help it. I shuddered at the sound of his voice._**

**_"But that's ok; I hear that all of you are... sensational."_**

**_He kissed me again, taking the liberty of drawing blood by biting so damn hard on my lip. I suppose that I should be scared, right? Well, I'm not. I'm probably going to be raped, yet all I can think of is how many times I going to kick him once I finally get control of my body back. Honestly, rape is a very real thing in this world. Most of the women here will tell you that it's happened to them at least once. In a way I'm kind of happy that it hasn't happened sooner! Hahaha, figures that I'd be positive after all this. Lily is safe, and I'd give up my virginity for that any day. I guess Jesse came back to 'cuz now she's glaring down at me. Oh shit, she's about to kick me in the head it seems. Ouch. Yup, I can definitely feel pain._**

**_"You bitch. Those snakes were my oldest pokemon. You'll pay." She brought her leg back again._**

**_"Will you let me have some fun before you kill her?" James asked._**

**_"Ugh fine. But hurry up, Mime Jr. can't hold up that barrier forever." Jesse huffed._**

**_Ah, a barrier. So I really am trapped. Jesse walked off, probably not wanting to watch James have his little way with me. Speaking of which. James turned back to me with a maniacal grin on his face. I was quickly learning that my soon to be rapist had some serious schizophrenia going on- he was meek and bumbling one second and a ruthless masochist the next. Just my luck. He got up and grabbed my hair, dragging me along for the ride. Seeing as I was still not able to move an inch of my body he kind of had to mold me or whatever it was that he was doing. It's strange, you know. Lily cried while being under his treatment, but I just don't care. That's the one thing that really sets me apart from my sisters, our demeanor. They're very girly and, I believe, still have dreams about waiting until marriage and all that crud. I suppose I'm something of a tomboy. I don't care about marraige or even sex all that much. I talk to a lot of guys and I guess some of that sexual nonchalance just rubbed off on me. So, while Lily was crying I'm just pissed that I can't properly brace myself for the pain. Go figure._**

I suppose I'm a little hard on May. She's actually not too bad of a person. Ash told me that she used to have a younger brother. His name was Mike or Matt or something like that. Max! That's it. But anyways, Max was something of a genius child. He entered some kind of contest thing and ended up winning 2 free tickets to the maiden voyage of the PokExpress, the train that had just been completed recently. So he goes and invites May, who's excited as hell because she's never been away from her parents for more then 5 fuckin' minutes. Well, Gary Oak decided to raid that particular voyage and, in the process, Max was somehow killed. May never told Ash what exactly had happened so I don't really know. I kind of feel bad for her in that sense. But, at the same time, she has no right to pretend that witnessing someone's death makes her "hard" or whatever she's going for. She seriously doesn't realize that _worse_ things can, and do, happen to people.

"Thanks Misty." Ash and May said together.

Silence.

"Hey, this Shirley Temple is really good!" May exclaimed.

So I spiked her drink! Blow me. She may have her own demons but, like I said, so does everyone else. Me spiking her drink honestly has nothing to do with that. The girl is just so damn annoying! A couple of minutes later May was amazingly tipsy and well on the way to drunken haven. Geez, I only put 2 shots in there! Lightweight. Hehehe. I think Ash knows what I did, he made a face at May before shaking his head and giving me an amused expression. I just pointed my eyes upward and whistled and innocent tune. I wasn't confessing to shit. His expression changed and became an unreadable mask. It's not a bad thing, as far as I can tell, but he looked like he was doing some deep thinking in his head. Ash does that a lot. I guess he agreed on something because he nodded to himself and turned to look at me with a smile on his face.

"Misty, can I talk to you outside?" Ash asked sincerely.

"Oh Ash. I would, but I have to run the bar."

"NONSENSE! I'll take over!"

When the hell did Wallace creep up on me? I gave him a look before linking my arm with the one Ash extended. We walked to the exit and I turned to look at Wallace one more time. He winked at me and gave me a thumbs up. Well, I guess he approves... WHAT? Did he just lick his lips? Oh man I must be losing it.

**_James seriously has some domination issues. I swear, that fat bulge in his pants just keeps getting bigger as he contorts me, trying to find a favorable position. He gave an aggravated sigh and dropped me flat on my face. Yeah Dumbass, paralyzed limbs won't stay put. He seemed to have figured that out and come up with Plan B. He grabbed my hair again and went over to a table, sitting down in one of the chairs. He pulled me on top of him, lifting up my skirt and forcing me to stradle his huge, disgusting boner between my legs. His hands latched onto my ass and he attempted to get some kind of steady rythym going. After my head flopped over 3 times he groaned and threw me onto the ground. Fuckin' dumbass can't even rape a girl right. Really, what are we on now, Plan C? He looked at me on the ground and suddenly slapped his head. Great Scott Batman, I think he has a plan!_**

**_"Be a good girl now and say ah." He murmured mockingly._**

**_Right, as if I have a choice. He left my body on the ground and grabbed my head, his fingers tangled in my hair, and kissed me again. He stuck his slimy tongue into my mouth and grinned, probably loving the fact that I couldn't do anything to stop him. I briefly wondered where his other hand was- for once it wasn't on my ass or boobs- but didn't have to wait long for an answer. He abruptly broke our kiss and slammed my head downward._**

**_Ok, let me tell you, penis tastes gross. It's a funny looking dangling thing that smells pretty bad to boot. Men piss out of it for goodness sake! Is there any reason to believe that it'd taste good to begin with? I'd gag, but I guess my gag reflex is just as dead as the rest of my body functions. James has a firm grip on my head and is dragging my head back and forth at the speed of fucking light. And as if that wasn't bad enough, he's happily thrusting into my mouth in tune with my stupid ass head. I'm convinced that whores have no gag reflexes. I'm sure that I'd be choking right now if my body was working. It's pretty safe to say that James is well endowed, and yet he's magically fitting all of his "manhood" into my mouth. It really shouldn't be possible. He keeps this pace up for a little while- I was starting to wonder if his hand was getting tired- before I feel his penis jolt still for a second then jerk about, releasing his seed right into my mouth._**

**_Scratch what I said about penis tasting gross earlier. Semen is the real repellant of the southern regions._**

**_I guess James isn't done. He's probably throwing an inner hissy fit because I'm not crying like my sister. Well it ain't gonna fucking happen. Fuck me all you please and you still won't break me. I want to scream it loud and clear, but there's this whole paralysis bit that still has me in its clutches. I guess my amusement showed in my eyes, though, because he quickly swapped from a frustrated look to a furious one. He growled and picked me off of the floor only to throw/slam me onto a table. Ouch. Being paralysed sucks._**

**_"So you like throwing bottles do you?" James asked in a low, dangerous voice._**

**_He grabbed an abandoned beer bottle and dumped the remains on the floor. He stalked back with a dark gleam in his eye. I think it's that gleam that scares me more then anything; we already established that I could care less about my "oh so holy" virginity. He roughly jerked my skirt away and made quick with taking off my underwear. He gave me a sickeningly sweet smile before spreading my legs and robbing me of a hymen. HOLY FUCKING SHIT! WHAT THE FUCK? JESUS FUCKING, OUCH DAMMIT BITCH! I knew that James wasn't going to be gentle with me, but SHIT I don't think anyone could be gentle with that. Oh hell that hurt. But never a moments rest for me! Even though I'm still hurting like none other he abruptly twisted the bottle inside me and yanked it out before slamming it back in. FUCKING SHIT. He's using so much force I can feel the bottom of the bottle colliding with my bone, even with skin in the way. In. Out. In. Out. Clink. Clink._**

**_James seems to be enjoying himself. I've learned that his speed increases when he's happy. He laughed as he pulled out the bottle and set it next to my head- bloody, what a suprise. My eyes snapped open abruptly even through the paralysis. James' naked hips were grinding against mine as he affectively became the man I lost my virginity to. I'm unable to scream in pain but he knows the truth. I was a virgin and his penis is 2-3 times wider then the stupid bottle spout. Capitalizing on his ability to finally rattle me, he pulled all the way out before inviting himself back in at full force. He laughed at my pained eyes as he raped me in tune with a pounding rythym only he knew. Getting further into the mood, he pulled me up from the table and squeezed me tight- too tight- while his head went straight for my neck just like it did Lily's. Dammit, I know that he's drawing blood there too. I felt his teeth digging into my flesh while his tongue lapped up the blood. Great. I'm gonna be a bloodless corpse by the time he's done._**

**_"Dammit James, hurry it up!" I heard Jesse from another room._**

**_"But I'm just getting started!" James whined._**

**_"Well FINISH! That damn sheriff will finally catch up to us if we stay here any longer!" Meowth screeched._**

**_"Ugh, fine." He relented._**

**_He then turned his head back to me._**

**_"I want to be your first in all respects." He whispered in my ear._**

**_With one final thrust he pulled himself out of me. On the plus side, due to all of his "treatment" it didn't really hurt anymore. Didn't change the repulsed feeling I had any less, though. He yanked me off the table and twirled me 180 degrees, my back facing his chest. I was supported by his arms alone as he explored my body, feeling every last bit of me. I still have my dress on, but it might as well be off- it did nothing to shield me from his probing. I felt my skirt go up again and realized that he was done playing with me; it was time to seal the deal and get the hell out of here. Four of his fingers made their way into my vagina while his thumb fucked around outside. He twisted his wrist like a fucking corkscrew and made sure I felt it all the way up at my cervix. His other arm held me upright as he walked two steps and threw me face first into the wall. Hang on, his second arm is finally off of my breasts. Oh he's lifting my skirt again. Now what? Is he going to feel up my ass some more?_**

**_!_**

**_I guess my body is starting to come back to its normal state. I heard myself gasp as his hips met my asscheeks. I don't need to tell you where the penis is, do I? He giggled excitedly- guess he heard my gasp- and started pounding into me like a jackrabbit on speed. But even with the speedy delivery he always makes sure that he goes in all the way and comes all the way out before pushing himself all the way in again. It hurts so bad. I think it hurts more from this end then the front. And it's just too much. I knew that he was going to rape me. Really I did. Shit, I was even able to handle him busting through my hymen with a beer bottle, but it's just too much pain. I really must be getting feeling back in my body. He went back to feasting on my neck and is still going down below; I feel myself starting to shake uncontrollably. I can't handle much more of this; my body is at its limits and James knows it. I feel him grin into my neck and pull out. Now what?_**

**_"And now for the grand finale."_**

**_His hand grabbed hold of my bundled skirt as he spun me back around to face him. Immediately he was back inside me and I saw him reach back and grab the bottle from earlier._**

**_"Mmm you've been a treat. So tight and virgin everywhere. I don't think any of your sisters could compare." He said as he pumped into me._**

**_I felt the tip of the bottle poking around my rear before it found its ultimate destination and was slammed into my other hole. My voice finally came back as I opened my mouth to scream in pain, only to have it stifled by James' lips crashing onto my own. I tried biting him, but I think it had the opposite effect and he only ravaged me harder. I swear I can feel his penis and the bottle trying to meet each other, both raping me swiftly and roughly. He continued kissing me as his free hand went straight for my breasts. I felt the taste of blood mix with semen and realized that James was reopening the wounds he made on my lip earlier. I think his biting was even harder then before, it sure hurts more. I tried to scream again only for him to shudder and pin me to the wall in delight._**

**_He finally broke the bloody kiss and and smirked, obviously proud of his work. His eyes stayed firmly planted on mine as he accelerated again. I tried to push him off, but I still didn't have feeling in my limbs. His eyes suddenly went wide and I lost my breath as he forced the bottle even higher into my anus then I thought possible- even some of the bottom half was lodged inside. I would've screamed, but my voice evaporated due to the shock and the pain; all I could convey was a silent agonized scream. The deal was finally sealed as he thrust himself straight into my cervix and ejaculated on the spot. I felt the warm, gooey substance hitting my walls and James finally let go of my chest and the bottle- not that it helped, it was so far up- to pull me to him entirely. I'm so fucking close I can feel him shaking as he releases. Or maybe it's him rumbling from his moan? All I can think is that it's finally over. He pulled both the bottle and his penis out of me and I immediately fell to the ground, spent._**

**_The last thing I remember is seeing Jesse and Meowth run into the room before it all explodes into a yellow light._**

Ash leads me to a hidden place in the middle of the city. There's a trail, but you won't find it unless you're looking for it. I smile, it's the place where Ash proposed to me. His eyes have a contented glint as he looks at me in the moonlight. I smile even wider as he brings me into his arms, hugging me tight and nuzzling the top of my head. I wonder how I ended up so lucky. Surely I didn't do anything brave or righteous or any of that shit, right? Heroes are usually the only ones who receive this kind of happiness. Well, I suppose that Ash is a hero. Fuck that. I KNOW that Ash is a hero. But me? I'm just some soiled dove from the red light district; why, out of all the women in the world, would Ash want me? He certainly could have any woman he desired- like May: young, untouched virgin with perfect mannerisms- but he chooses me. Maybe he's been inhaling Oddish fumes? I hear that it makes people do some strange things.

"You remember when we first met, Misty?" He asked me.

"Of course. Wasn't exactly my best day." I laughed

Talk about understatement of the fucking year.

"You wonder why I don't marry May right?" He cut to the chase.

I stay silent because we both know the answer to that question. But I just can't understand it! I'm poor, crude and "experienced." Everything that guys find wrong with women shines through in me. I burp, I swear, I drink like a fish... WHY?

"I fell in love with you the moment we met." He said earnestly.

**_I heard crying and immediately recognized Lily's voice. Was she hurt?!? No, that's not right. I made a deal with the devil to make sure she stayed safe. What then? Raped, Violet's voice. Ah I must be passed out. So I'm not dead then? Guess something happened to keep Jesse from following through. Well, that's good. Except I hurt like hell. Guess I'm still sore. Fucking James. If I ever meet him again I swear I'll fucking chop that weapon off. My genitals are throbbing, my neck feels like a dog's chew toy and I already know that my chest has been covered in blue/purple/red marks; but I am ALIVE. What's that? Please wake up? I'm trying Daisy! Seriously I am! I want to be there. My sisters are older then me, sure, but I'm definitely the one with my head screwed on right. I know that they need me right now; I couldn't imagine how I'd feel if I was in their shoes. Well, close. I got into this mess because of what I saw with Lily... and she knows it. No wonder she's crying, she probably blames herself!_**

**_"Ugh..." I muttered weakly._**

**_"Oh! She's waking up, Sheriff!" Daisy called._**

**_I felt my sisters back away and a new presence right next to me._**

**_"Ms. Waterflower, I'm the new Sheriff in town. Just stay still, we'll get you a doctor." I heard._**

**_"Gi... Gin." I got out._**

**_"Gin? Miss, you have multiple serious injuries and have definitely been raped. Your body's in shock, I don't think drinking is wise."_**

**_Suddenly I was fully awake and alive. My eyes snapped open and I sat up abruptly, looking at this "Sheriff" square in the eye._**

**_"My clit and my anus hurt like a god damn bitch. My fucking mouth tastes like semen. Have you ever tried semen? I seriously doubt it. But let me tell YOU that it sure ain't fucking TASTY! So either you get me some fucking gin RIGHT now or you get the HELL out of my way so I can get it myself!"_**

I laughed at the memory. After my outburst Ash obediently grabbed me a bottle of gin and even stuck a slice of lemon in there for me. The doctor arrived soon after and attempted to look me over; but I ended up punching the poor Doc when he came too close to my more tender areas. It was about then that he finally agreed to my initial plan of just giving me the contraceptives and getting the hell out of the bar. I downed them with gin. I don't think I'll ever forget the look on Ash's face after that, pure and complete shock. I later came to understand that it was the first time he had actually seen a woman that wasn't all dolled up and cultured. Hahaha, I was a shock to the system. But for him to say that he fell in love with me right then and there? Bullshit.

"Yeah right." I countered.

"No, really! I fell in love with you almost immediately. The way you hold yourself, and how you don't give a damn when you talk. It's all so refreshing, so real. Women like May are nothing more then pretty dolls who do what's expected of them by society. But you're different. You actually live your life and show emotions like anger and hurt. I feel like I can actually have real conversations with you and I just love you and know deep in my heart that you're the woman I want to live out my life with!"

I blinked, speechless. What could I say to that?

"Don't you remember? After that day I came-" He started.

"I know, every single night for a month straight. You intentionally turned your chair away from the stage and my sisters so that you were only facing me. I remember." I smiled.

"And on the 31st day?" He asked.

"You waited until we closed and brought me here. Got down on one knee and told me you loved me. Then you..."

I couldn't finish. I was tearing up and Ash took me in his arms again. I have no idea what god I pleased to be blessed with this, but I know that I'm thankful with every fiber in my being. I have a man that loves me to death and I'm going to marry him in 2 days. He smiled at me and wiped away my tear with his thumb, licking it then making a mock-disgusted face. I laughed at his obvious attempt to cheer me up. I mentioned that I had to get back to Poison soon and he nodded, understanding my duty to the saloon. But he wasn't going to let this moment pass up by. Under the full moon he brought his lips to my ear and whispered something before facing me and slowly bringing his lips to mine. It was our first real kiss; and hopefully the beginning of many more to come.

"I love you Misty Ketchum."


	4. Absquatulate

I'm not cool enough to own Pokemon. Psh.

Author's Note: Did anyone else notice that Team Rocket were actually REAL villains in the first couple of episodes? Like before they became the comic relief that couldn't do anything right. I just felt like they deserved their chance to be real bad guys and do despicable things. Including raping our heroine. I decided to have her raped for a few different reasons; but I think that the most important one was to show that bit of reality. I mean, cmon, I have 4 beautiful women running a bar with no bouncers or security: is it really plausible that they are all perfect virgins and no one would ever try to take advantage of their situation?

I'm having a blast writing this fic out. Personally, I think I'm a better adult(?) story writer then a teen story writer. When I write teen things I have to make sure to censor myself and am never really sure where to draw the line with things. I definitely think that I'll start focusing on writing more rated M stories, they're just so much fun!

Ok everyone, this chapter will have the debut of Gary Oak! Hold on tight!

I know that people tend to avoid lemons like the plague, so I wasn't hoping for too many reviews. But I beg you, if you are reading this then please drop me a line. It makes us author-folk really happy.

* * *

Sanguine

Chapter 4

...

Absquatulate

(1 a : to depart in a hurry; abscond)

* * *

I knew those fuckers had something planned. From the minute I woke up I became acutely aware of the plotting going on behind my back. Breakfast in bed tends to be a dead giveaway. But that's what I got anyways. And all throughout the day everyone was being nicer then usual. Don't these assholes know that being that nice makes it harder to accept the fact that I'm getting married and leaving tomorrow? Hahaha. I'm not going to complain, though. Having my sisters (and Wallace) constantly around is the best wedding gift I could ask for. The day passed easily enough; Wallace is just about done with my wedding dress and I find it hard to believe that he's made such a beautiful thing in only a couple of days.

It's all white, of course. But I find it amazing that Wallace created something that's so me without making it slutty. It's a really simple halter dress design, made of satin with blue trim. The dress itself it really flowy and free- as in no damn corset- but still hugged the cleavage. It makes me feel pretty and I don't think I could ask for more. And the veil is just so awesome! It, like the dress, is really simple. I told Wallace that I'm keeping my hair down for the ceremony and he accomodated by styling a simple head wreath of seashells with layers of lace attached. The lace itself is in a seashell pattern, opposed to the normal boring flowery lace patterns you see everyday. And if that in itself isn't enough he snuck in a couple of layers of sky blue lace right in the middle. It's perfect.

"Oh shit, we're opening in 10 minutes!" I gasped, quickly undressing.

Wallace chuckled.

"You know, guys would pay lots of money to be in my shoes right now." He commented.

"Oh shut up and help me get out of this thing!"

He shrugged and walked over to me. I propped a leg onto a chair and he started helping me get rid of the pantyhose- you can tell how much I trust this guy right- as I pushed the dress to my waist, bra in plain sight. And that's the position we were in when all 3 of my sisters came walking through the door. It was definitely an awkward moment. But luckily I have the best sisters in the world and they just let it slide with raised eyebrows and an eyeroll. They gave me a box and walked out to the main room, readying Poison for tonight's customers. With Wallace looking over my shoulder I opened the box. From the looks of it I had a new dress. As I inspected it further I raised an eyebrow and directed my eyes to Wallace suspiciously.

"Hmm, this design looks familar."

It sure fucking does. It's a skanked up version of my wedding dress to put simply. Same white satin; but this version has a full on lace up corset opposed to a halter top. In the back of the corset is a big yellow bow that reaches my ankles. The skirt is considerably shorter as well, barely going further than my ass. I also get a full on stocking-garter set and a little garter belt to tie it all together. I think my favorite part of this outfit is the veil- or lack thereof. A white satin top hat takes its place, a yellow band around it to match my bow. Is it skanky? Oh fuck yeah. But, way I figure, why the hell not? This is my last night as a single woman and most of my friends won't be able to see me in the other white dress... so why not entertain in this one? I think it's about time I showed those drunk asses exactly how sensational this sister can be.

Seriously though. I LOVE being a bartender, but at times it's a damper. I'm constantly overlooked when it comes to beauty. Now, I'm not ashamed at all to say that I do believe that my sisters are the hottest things to walk this fucking earth; but I'm not ugly! Some recognition might be nice for once. I can't really blame anyone, though. Why check outo the bartender when there's skimpily clad women dancing around on stage? And, in my sisters' defense, they have asked me plenty of times if I wanted to try the stage out. I refused, of course. I'm sure I could perform if I actually needed to, but I have so much fun just serving the drinks that I've never really craved the spotlight. I guess I'm going to be given my chance tonight, though. I'm pretty sure I know my sisters well eough to have figured out what their grand plan is, hehehe. Those crazy asses better not turn my bar into a battle zone.

"Ok everyone! As you all know, tonight is a special night for us here at Poison. Our youngest sister, Misty, is getting married tomorrow!" I heard Lily from the main stage.

"As a proper farewell gift, we've arranged this going away party just for her. All of our patrons are like family and we know that you'll miss your favorite bartender just as much as we'll miss our little sister." Daisy's continued.

"But it's not time to focus on that! Tonight, we drink and have an ass kicking party because all drinks are half price!" Violet's voice was muffled by the cheers.

"So, without further ado, let's welcome our guest of honor! Soon to be Mrs. Ash Ketchum Misty Waterflower!"

I heard cheering from the main room and could't help but wonder how many people were here exactly. Sure sounded like an assload. Oh well. I checked myself out in the mirror- if I were a guy, I'd fuck me- before shrugging and making my way on stage. The loud cheering increased tenfold when I came out, accompanied by catcalls and whistles from all around. I think I can feel my ego inflating, hahaha. I peered out and saw Brock- who met my eyes and made a couple of 'I want to fuck your brains out' gestures... strange- and even May- who was, as usual, overly dolled up and looked like she was trying too hard. Violet had two shots in her hands and I happily downed them both quickly. The liquid courage fueled my ego inflation; as if it wasn't bad enough already.

"Damn I didn't realize you bastards were all so sentimental!" I got laughs in return.

"But seriously. As most of you know, I've been bartending here since I was 13 years old. That's a long ass time; this is my home and well, it's just fucking awesome that everyone's here tonight. I don't really know what to say. Let's just party so hardy it makes Old Agatha roll over in her grave!"

The whole room burst into cheers at the mention of Agatha and I heard Wallace start up with the piano. The party officialy started! I made the rounds and attempted to get a couple drinks, only to be shooed away by my sisters and have more shots shoved into my hand. I downed one and was about to take down the other when I saw May appraoching me. I offered the drink to her and she gave me a look before taking it. I had to hold back laughter as she took the tiniest baby sip I've ever seen from a shot glass before her face contorted into some crazy disaster. Guess tequila isn't her thing. I rolled my eyes and took her discarded shot, making easy work of it. I didn't bother getting annoyed; that's just May for you. She's alright at times.

"What's up?" I asked her.

"Ash won't make it tonight." I sighed, not too suprised.

"Why not?"

"Gary Oak's been spotted 5 miles out of town. Ash didn't want it to get in the way of the wedding so he's dealing with it now."

Damned Gary Oak. If I ever get the chance to meet him face to face I'm gonna punch him so fucking hard for this. I thanked May for the info and forced a smile. Really it's not her fault anyways. It still doesn't help my anger any, though. Couldn't Gary Oak's dumbass just wait until we came back from the honeymoon?

"Oh, by the way Misty. I didn't want to insult your sisters, but their Shirley Temples are nowhere near as amazing as yours. It's just not the same." May said seriously.

I laughed and gave her some last minute advice.

"Try asking for a Dirty Shirley instead."

I saw her giving me a quizzical look as I danced away. So my darling fiance isn't going to be joining us tonight? In a way it was a good thing. I downed another free shot and accepted the cig offered to me by one of the guys. Although we were engaged to be married and Ash made no secret of his devotion to me the fact still remained that we're from completely different worlds. Some of the things that could happen tonight are DEFINITELY not the things that well to do bride to bes would be doing on the eve of their wedding nights. But then again, on the eve of their wedding nights most women are probably worrying about whether their lingerie will be perfect for the womanly right of passage that most go through on their wedding night. I guess I already fucked that one up by not being a virgin. And as for lingerie? My job is practically to make men hot, I seriously doubt that my husband will be any different. I could turn him on in a burlap sack if I put my mind to it.

I grinned and made my way over to Brock. He looked kind of lonely in his corner; after all, my sisters were manning the bar and I was wandering. Who was he supposed to watch? He looked up, startled, when I abruptly sat down next to him but quickly nodded his head to me in a friendly gesture. I nodded back and grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet and dragging him on stage with me. You know, Brock really is a buddy. He's a buddy that constantly thinks about getting laid, but he has a good heart. It's a rarity around these parts and it makes me feel for him even more. I figure I could do something to help him out- it is my party after all- and have seen my sisters bring guests on stage enough times to know what to do. Brock just stared at me dumbly as I winked.

"You'll thank me later. GIVE ME A FAST TUNE WALLACE!"

The piano sped up and I nodded along with the tune, getting the main beat down. By the time I had it I noticed that most of the patrons/party goers had turned their chairs away from my sisters to face me for once. It's kind of awkward. I know most of these guys personally and have even sat back for beer and poker with them; I never imagined that they'd ever be so focused on me. Hehe, oh well. If it's a show they want it's a show they'll get. I've never danced on stage before, but someone would have to be one hell of an idiot if they honestly believed that I wasn't talented. Just take a look at my sisters! You know that they've taught me a thing or two. Hahaha. Brock just continued standing there as I downed another shot (yes ANOTHER) and started moving with the music. It wasn't long until the cheers started.

"Damn Misty, move that ass!"

"Don't stop Girl!"

I laughed at the horny drunks I considered to be my friends. I twirled and kicked and swayed like my life depended on it and they just ate it up. It's pretty fun, actually. I can understand why my sisters get such a damned rush out of this. But I'm not them. I'm not afraid to go the extra mile and do some sluttier moves. Maybe it's because I'm getting married tomorrow, or maybe because I have less inhibitions; but whatever the case, my dancing is a little more on the burlesque side. I suppose I should worry about my reputation and all that shit, but I don't. I'm getting married tomorrow! This is my last night in this world so, technically, anything goes! I made my way off the stage to flirt with a couple customers before grabbing a chair and making my way back on stage.

By now I'd danced my way through a few songs and Brock had veered off to the side of the stage. I put the chair down and grinned. It was time to pay Brock back for all of the good conversations we've had over the past couple of years. He looked at the chair and back to me with a wary expression on his face, like he was starting to put two and two together and not quite knowing what he should be thinking about it. I can't really blame him. We've been friends for a while and we're about to get really intimate really quick- and there's that whole marraige thing. He better not think that I'm really trying to jump his nuts. That's really not the case. It just finally hit me that this is seriously the last time that I'm ever going to be able to let loose and have fun! Fuck being a hostess, tonight is mine for the taking.

I feel like everything I've ever had the urge to do better be done by the end of tonight. It's kind of funny how many parallels my marraige and death seem to have goin for them. But this is what I want. It's what we all want. To escape this life to be free to live the rest of my days and a rich, high class woman... that's what every woman in the red light district secretly dreams for. Right? Fuck, I don't even know who or why I'm asking this question now. If I've ever had doubts about marrying Ash this is definitely the wrong time for them to emerge. It's too late to turn back now: my fate had been sealed the moment I said yes.

For a second the party faded away and a confused look grazed my features.

But it was gone in an instant. A new song started up and the whole bar wanted to see what the deal was with the chair. I grabbed Brock's hand and threw him into it none too gently. Guess I'm both a lover and a fighter, huh? I flew after him, landing squarely in his lap. I opted to put my back to his face and flirt with the crowd a little bit as a warm up. I shook around a little bit and eventually spread my legs teasingly, throwing my head back into Brock's shoulders. I felt a twitch beneath me but that was it. I smiled, silently applauding Brock's ability to keep cool for the moment. He knew that there was more on the way. And I'm not one to disappoint. After slowly and carefully crossing one leg over the other I flipped, magically finding the manpower to manuever the chair's angle to a side view as I stradled poor Brock.

I need the escape. Figures that I'd have a revelation like this now of all times, heh. But it's the damn truth. I've been so focused on everything lately I've never really taken the time to assess myself. I know what I want and who I want it with; but, let me tell you, weddings are the most stressful bitches in the world! I'm just ready for the honeymoon and the supposed stress relieving sex taht's supposed to come along with it.

I grabbed onto Brock's shoulder with one of my hands and ground my hips into his seductively. Hahaha, I guess he really CAN open his eyes after all. My body fell into a rythym and I swayed along with the tune being played out on the piano. Damn, I can see why the brothel broads are so favorable of lap dances- they keep you focused on something that's not your life. I laughed at my realization, making sure to not break the pace I had set for myself. Brock was like putty in my hands. Since his initial shock wore off he's just been sitting here enjoying all he can get; in this case, plenty. I got out of the chair real quick, standing with my feet apart. I dropped my entire front half to the ground, shimmying my ass as I came back up. After realigning Brock and the chair to face the crowd I got back in the saddle.

I knew that Brock was reaching his breaking point. I'm not into humiliation or torture and have no intention of causing Brock to nut all over himself up on stage. I quickly formulated my grand finale in my head. Besides, feeling Brock's "excitement" against my grinding body has me feeling a little on the horny side myself. Heh, I'm only human. I grabbed the top hat off of my head and jammed it onto Brock's, bringing his head to mine in the process. Hahaha, I can hear the catcalls coming from the crowd. I wonder what May's thinking... ah fuck it. Brock ain't that bad of a kisser, really. I know that he's enjoying this- if our dancing tongues weren't evidence enough- and I'm not hating it. I jerked my hips into his one more time before breaking our kiss, bringing my lips to his ear.

"Hold my dress shut." I whispered.

Before he could question me I fell back. Luckily for me, his legs happened to be open and I landed on my hands in between his feet. I brought my legs into the mix as well. I had to get them propped onto the chair and from there dropped them into a Chinese split. I didn't feel my dress at my head so I'm assuming Brock was able to catch it in time. I averted my eyes for a millisecind and, indeed, saw my dress bundled in his hand. Well that's good because- WHOA! I didn't realize he could do _that_ without looking conspicuous. I guess he only had a hold of the dress with his thumb and index finger. As much as I was tempted to stay there for a while longer I knew I couldn't. I threw a hand to Brock and he helped me back onto my feet. We took a bow and made our way offstage. Once out of main view I laughed and hugged him then, knowing that we now had our own little secret.

"My husband would have you thrown into jail so fast if he knew what just happened." I stated.

"Hmm? Probably. But he should just be thankful that I didn't fuck your brains out right there on the stage. You had me all worked up Mist!"

I laughed as he tried to defend himself.

"I see, so you fingering me was a defense mechanism?"

"Nah. Me fingering you was a thanks for the mind-blowing lap dance. Doing it in front of EVERYONE and not being caught is just icing on the cake."

"You know, I should be mad or upset or something like that; but I'm not. I think I'm more amused than anything else. It takes skill to multitask like that and not get caught!"

"You enjoyed it." He said smugly.

"Sssh! Not so loud, I'm a married woman remember?" I winked.

We laughed and split. I'm just relieved that he didn't look too far into anything. But should I really be suprised? I mean, Brock has done the deed with many a soiled dove. He should know better then anyone exactly how the loving process works. I took down a couple more shots and resumed my thinking. Ash is amazing and I know that we'll be happy together, but I know that he'd never understand how me and Brock were able to do our thing and move on immediately afterwards. I laughed and shook my head. What did it matter anyways? After tonight I'll become a "real lady" and transform into society's bitch. I wonder if that means I'll have to stop drinking. That'd suck on so many bloody levels. So many levels.

I never really realized how much this lifestyle impacted me until now. I suppose growing up in this world kind of has it embedded in me so deep I wouldn't notice until I think about changing everything altogether. That fuckin' sucks. I'll be the first to say that I'm no better than any of the chicks you find here; but I always thought that I had more "class" than some others. I don't mean that condescendingly, just observantly. But when it comes right down to the wire, we're all clumped into one big "soiled dove" category. I think that's bullshit. When people look back on us 100 years from now will they just see us all as the same? Will mankind just assume that we were all whores? I don't even know why I bother thinking about 100 years from now when it's a problem today. The rich automatically like to assume that we are all degenerates who pollute their world. If there was a way I seriously wouldn't put erradication past their thick skulls. Seriously.

So then where does that put me?

I don't like where my train of thought is going. I put my thoughts aside and let myself actually enjoy the hell out of my party and the company I'm in. I joked around with people and even played a few hands of poker. It's awesome. The guys still respect me as a friend, but now appreciate me in a different light. I guess that's really taking the best of both worlds, huh? That's something that's solely mine. And, believe me, when you have 3 sisters having something all your own is something of a miracle. As much as my sisters are loved, it's more of a "you make me penis phone home" kind of love. I couldn't really imagine either of them holding on a conversation for too long. Damn! There I go sounding condescending again. It's not even like that. I love my sisters waaaaaaaay too much to actually imagine myself on a pedestal and believe it.

By the time I checked the time again it was already 15 'til one. This night has sure gone by quickly. Almost too quickly. I'm having a blast- and am starting to finally drunken up by now- and don't really want the night to end too soon. Poison doesn't close until two, but time sure has been flying. I sighed and helped myself to another shot. I don't know if I'm ready for this to be over yet. I'm not really sure what I mean, really. I suppose that statement could be used in a whole bunch of different ways, huh. Guess I can add vague to my list of charming qualities. But yeah, I kind of wish that this moment would just stay for a while longer. And even more then this moment itself there's this feeling. I feel free, me, no different than I have for every single day I've lived. I don't think I'm ready to give that up quite yet.

Don't mistake my words now. I DO want to get married. I know that I'll be happy with Ash and we'll have tons of sex and many an offspring to raise together and yeah... shit I'm babbling. But it's the damn truth! I'm not afraid of my marraige in the slightest! In fact, that's one of the few happy things I have going for me at the moment. I still think that he's nuts to choose me, but I promised him that I wouldn't prod him on it any more. And besides, I love the fool. He's the only guy who's ever tried to court me; like literally court me! He didn't want to buy sex. He didn't even want to _buy_ my heart. He romanced me the old fashioned way and made me blush way before he made me hot. If that's not love I don't know what is. A tap on my shoulder brought me out of my own mind.

"I haven't gotten a chance to congratulate you yet." I smiled.

"No you haven't."

I made a quick beer run before taking a seat at my friend's table. Quercus is an interesting guy. In truth, I've only known him for about 3 days. You see, he's a bounty hunter. By looking at him I'd believe it. Bounty hunters have this air of mystery about them and Quercus is no different. He wears a long leather trench coat over his outfit and always has on a leather hat. Hahaha, I don't think I've ever actually seen his face now that I think about it. That damn hat covers everything but his chin! But yeah, along with the outfit he has a way of holding himself that, if I were true to myself, I kind of envy. He's so comfortable with himself and not afraid to speak his mind. And all the while he has a past that's kind of shrouded in mystery. Because he's a travelling bounty hunter, no one actually knows who the real Quercus is.

I know he tips REALLY good. I know that he likes tequila drinks. I know that he's a charmer. I know that I wish I'd met him sooner in my life. But that's about it. He randomly stumbled into Poison a few days ago and I struck up a conversation with him- I like getting to know new customers- and he's been back every night since then.

We have some crazy ass conversations. In case you haven't noticed, I tend to think about anything and everything all the fucking time. Well so does Quercus! The future in particular. We both wonder about it and can seriously sit there pondering it for long periods of time. Quercus once told me that he thinks so much thanks to his grandfather. I guess back in his hometown his grandpa is some sort of genius thinker. Oh hey, I guess I DO know a little about Quercus! His parents were both killed by bandits so he was raised by his grandfather. His grandfather brought him up to question everything, to never take things at face value. Damn good lesson if you ask me. But thanks to that upbringing, we are able to have our crazy ass conversations. Bam. Full circle.

"So, how are you feeling about tomorrow?" He asked me.

"I'm just ready for the honeymoon." I sighed.

"Ugh. It's bad enough that you're marrying Ketchum, I don't even want to imagine him having sex. The though of it'll turn me sterile."

I rolled my eyes at his answer. Quercus has made no mystery of his general dislike of my fiance. I guess it's some kind of bounty huner manpride thing. Sheriffs are the main competition in the criminal catching game. I've never really heard bounty hunters bitch about sheriffs before, but whatever. For all I know Quercus might just have some personal vendetta against Ash or something. That'd be kind of funny. Or not. I guess my humor sucks. I took a sip of my beer- well more like a fat chugging swig- and threw down my mug with a smile on my face. Quercus cleared his throat and I turned to him with a questioning look on my face. He shrugged indifferently and I rolled my eyes at him again. Crazy ass.

"Do you know what time it is?" He asked me.

"Um, about 5 miutes 'til one." I guesstimated.

"Cool... oh hey! I wanted to ask your opinion on a proverb I heard today." I nodded.

"Go for it."

"Every majestic Oak was once a nut who stood his ground." He recited.

I thought about it before answering.

"I think it means that, to achieve greatess or change, one must stand tall even if it's deemed hopeless by the masses."

"I see your point. But, do you think that there's a double meaning?" He asked with a grin.

Before I could question him on it the door slammed open abruptly.

"ELEKID, FLASH!"

I heard the confused yelling around me as my vision went white. There's no way that this can be good. Fuck fuck fuck. I was thrown over someone's shoulder then. Oh hell no! I started screaming and kicking: there's no fucking way I'm about to be kidnapped! Unfortunately for me, my captor has half a brain and easily binds me. I feel my vision starting to come back and notice that I'm now in Poison's doorway. I'm facing a leather coat... no way. I looked up and saw 3 men on horses, ready to make a break for it. I craned my neck even further, confirming my suspicions that it, indeed, was my "buddy" Quercus who was taking me. He took off his hat and threw it at Daisy, who was confused as hell. I focused on the back of his head and realized that I recognized that spiky hairdo. I heard several gasps from within the bar and realized that I wasn't the only person to recognize this bastard. It was damned Gary Oak's outlaw ass in the flesh. It must be my lucky day.

"Tell Ketchum that he has _amazing_ taste in women, k?" Gary laughed.

He made a break for his horse, throwing me to one of his goons, and hopped on, taking off immediately. I thought of jumping off; but that would mean being trampled by the other 3 horses. I don't really have the urge to die tonight. And besides, Ash'll come for me anyways. We still have a wedding scheduled for tomorrow. You know, I can't help but think of the damned irony of all of this. It wasn't that long ago that I was thinking about how I wasn't ready for tomorrow and wanted to stay away from it a little bit longer. I guess I got my stupid wish. But I sure as hell didn't mean it like THIS! I wanted a temporary escape and what do I get instead? I get kidnapped; being taken away to who knows where when I'm supposed to be at my wedding tomorrow even though I know that I wasn't ready to go through with it anyways! I wanted to buy more time but DAMMIT! NOT LIKE THIS!

Man, someone at the top must be getting a fucking kick out of my situation.


	5. Importune

I'm not cool enough to own Pokemon. Psh.

Author's Note: Yeah it's been a year...or two. And I KNOW I have other stories that probably need updating a lot more than this one, but I felt like going back to this fic. What can I say?

Review please!

* * *

Sanguine

Chapter 5

...

Importune

(1 a : to press or urge with troublesome persistence)

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For the millionth time I find myself reminded that I'm not an ordinary woman. I've been kidnapped by the most infamous outlaw band and I have yet to feel the fear one would expect. What the fuck is wrong with me?! Hahahaha, maybe I'm jsut as psychotic as everyone thinks after all. Or maybe I'm just in too much pain to feel anything else. After all, we are riding into the distance as fast as we can. You must remember that these idiots have just captured the Sheriff's fiance- you better believe that they're in a damn hurry! But where do I stand? What do I feel? To be honest, if we weren't moving so damn bumpilly I'd probably have a better answer to that question. Unfortunately, at the moment I only have one thought:

I hate fucking horses.

You remember how I was talking about the heavens above laughing at me? Well, I think that they finally decided to give me a break. I feel these horrible horses slowing down- still feel like I sucker puched right in the gut- and I swear I see water approaching. On the other hand, we've been travelling for one, maybe even two or three, hours now and I know that we have one hell of a lead on Ash. I finally take the chance to catch a glimpse of the person who's been sharing the horse with me. Well, he looks nice enough. Like I'ce already said, nothing is actually known on Gary's band of rogues so I'm unable to place a name to the face. His eyes are kind despite his initial cowboy appearance; he has black hair that falls a little bit long- about nose length- and has an orange head band that just stands out to me for some reason. The stranger nods to me in a friendly manner. I smile and am about to nod back when I feel myself falling off of the horse. That ASSHOLE!

"Careful Tracey. She'd slit your throat just as fast as she'd kill you. Best not to be too nice." I heard from above me.

"What the FUCK is your problem Oak, you didn't have to pull me!" I yelled.

"See what I mean?" Gary turned back to the Nice Guy.

"Well, try to imagine being in her position..." I smiled at the Nice Guy; he was definitely okay in my books.

"ENOUGH! I'm stuck with a bunch of dumbshits. You two, go set up our ride!" Gary barked.

The other two goons rode off without saying anything. I took in my surroundings. We were at some sort of port, probably meaning that we were going to be going on a little boatride sometime in the near future. Not good. Even if Ash managed to follow us this far the water would be a mighty shitty hinderance. Oak's a lot smarter then I gave him credit for; that's for sure. Speak of the devil. He's coming my way, bag in hand. Hang on, when the hell did he get a bag? Whatever, with the way my luck's going I'll probably be stuffed into the damned bag. His face is unreadable, which is kind of expected. I had thought that this guy was my friend. I would definitely say that I was comfortable around him and, until recently, would have no actual complaints about him. But all of that was a lie. I harden my gaze and he rises an eyebrow at me. Eventually we're face to face and he says nothing. Figures, fuckin' asshole.

"I have no itentions of being held hostage in a burlap sack." I say pointedly.

To my surprise, all he does is laugh.

"Well, I actually hadn't thought of that. But now that you mention it-"

"What the fuck do you want, Oak?" I cut him off.

He rolls his eyes and sighs as if this were my fault. ARG! I've only been with him one, maybe two or three, hours and already I'm sick of him. WHY!? Why does this shit have to happen to me? I should be home, excited about my wedding. But instead I'm at a dock in the middle of the morning, wearing nothing more than a tiny piece of white fabric. And as if that weren't enough, I'm stuck with the fucker who happens to be the nemesis of the man I love! What the hell is right with this picture?! Suddenly I see Oak's hand in front of my face... whoops.

"Hey? Don't tell you're fuckin' dead!"

"Shut up." I grumbled.

"Ugh, shrewd shrew." He muttered.

"EXCUSE ME? I'LL TELL YOU EXACTLY-"

I was ready to bitch him out for it, really I was. But as soon as I opened my mouth I found his tongue pinning mine, as if forcing me to stop bitching at him. I stood, frozen. What the hell else am I supposed to do? Gary "Asshole" Oak is kissing me! I feel him smirk against my lips- not to self: never let Oak feel as if he's in control. He does something or other with his tongue before breaking our lip lock... damn. Ash never kissed me like _that_. I'm not saying that I enjoyed kissing _him_, but I'd be one lying bitch if I said that I didn't enjoy what he did. Once Ash rescues me I'll be sure to teach him a thing or two about kissing, that's for sure.

"Thank the heavens I finally got you to shut up. Come on."

I felt him grab my hand a drag me off somewhere, but I'm not really paying attention. I'm lost in my own mind. Heh. In my mind I'm on my honeymoon with Ash and... yeah. It doens't take a genius to figure out exactly where my head is at the moment. Ash better hurry his ass up and rescue me! I finally feel like I'm ready for the wedding- well, more the honeymoon actually- and I'm miles away! Now ain't that irony at its finest? I snap out of my delusions and notice that Gary has brought me to an outhouse. The hell? He pushes the sack into my hand and stares at me. I raise an eyebrow and he just rolls his eyes like I'm some sort of idiot.

"I can't very well travel with you looking like that." He refers to my little bride number.

"Well that's not my problem. Maybe you shouldn't have kidnapped me Dumbass!" He sighs and pushes me into the stall.

"Look into the bag."

I mumble a few choice words before opening the bag and pulling out my new "outfit." Well, at least I wouldn't be stuck in a skirt. But honestly, what the fuck? I pulled on the black underwear- they were in a shorts-like shape and, thankfully, covered my backside- before putting on the black leather chaps. Ugh, it would have been too damned easy just to give me pants. As if the "nothing to the imagination" bottoms weren't bad enough; I rolled my eyes at the tiny piece of black leather that I'm assuming is the top. The leather itself covers only what needs to be, falling into a v-neck design. The rest of the shirt is an intricate criss cross design of straps that go across my back. I tentatively pulled the thing over my head and scoffed at the length: the shirt fit perfectly, barely covering my breasts and stopped about an inch above my belly button. I look like a prostitute after a night with a more loaded client. Got to hand it to the asshole, though, the leather isn't uncomfortable; in fact, I'm finding it to be really easy to move around in. And that's quite the damn feat, considering I'm still inside the outhouse.

"Dammit, hurry the fuck up!" I heard.

"Shut up!" I hollered.

Now, we've established that I'm pretty fucking fearless. I don't mean to sound like a braggy bitch, but it's kind of true. But nothing prepared me for the door swinging open to reveal a pissed off Gary Oak. He glared me into silence and I wordlessly gulped as his face came within inches of mine. I eeped as his fist landed on the wall next to my head. Fuck, what have I gotten myself into?

"Listen Bitch. I have been tolerant as hell, but now is not the fucking time to push me. Get it into your head that I am a murderer and I am not afraid of your little loverboy. Piss me off and I'll shoot you on the spot, got it?"

I said nothing as he roughly yanked my hand and dragged me over to a random boat. It's a pirate boat, I'm assuming. Big, flamboyant, and filled with outlaws. As soon as I got a good look I knew exactly who we were hitching a ride from. Team Aqua may not be on Ash's top 10 list, but it was easy enough to figure them out. I mean, who else wears matching pirate garb? I see a few of the guys on board giving me whistles and catcalls- pretty damn obvious that these fuckers haven't been laid in a while. I raised an eyebrow and stopped walking, turning to face these guys. Wrong fucking day to hit on me. That's for sure. I open my mouth and was about to speak my piece until I felt a wave of pain. What the fuck was he doing to my wrist?! I felt Gary pull me away and he didn't let go until we were in, what I'm assuming is, our cabin. The room is tiny. Nothing more then a futon and a window. I stumbled on the futon, grabbing onto Gary by instinct. He turned to glare at me; once again confirming that this man definitely is not the bounty hunter I befriended at Poison.

"Keep your damn mouth shut, Shrew. I'm not letting you screw my good relationship with Team Aqua-" He smirked. "Besides, whereas I'll just shoot you, they'll rape you inside out before slowly torturing you to death. You'd be amazed at some of the fetishes these guys have."

I gulped as Gary smirked and left. I sat on the corner of the futon, pondering to myself. Something about his smirking face gives me the chills. The asshole is somehow able to bring up this kind of nervousness without even trying. Truth be told, I'm glad that he's finally gone. Not long after the thought passes through my head I see the door opening. Great. I just had to go and jinx myself. I grit my teeth and looked up, bracing myself. To my shock- and pleasure, actually- it wasn't Gary Oak who is "gracing" me with his presence. I saw the Nice Guy who I had shared my horse with... and was that beer in his hand? He smiled at me and took a seat on the futon, making sure not to come too close to me. He opened the two beer bottles and drank from one, putting the other one in between the two of us. Now this is the kind of peace offering I understand.

"We've left the shore. We'll be arriving home tomorrow afternoon."

I nodded and drank my beer, unsure of what to say.

"We haven't properly met yet. My name is Tracey." He held his hand out to me and I shook it warily.

"Misty."

"You're not afraid." He stated.

I shrugged; that only seemed to intrigue him more.

"What if I had poisoned your beer?" He asked curiously, only for me to shrug again.

"Guess it beats getting shot by Oak."

He started at me strangely for a minute or so. Who knows? Maybe it wasn't really a minute, but it's still weirder then all hell. I raise my eyebrow at him only for him to smile and shake his head, chuckling to himself. I smile back and finish my beer in one gulp, laying down on the futon and staring at the ceiling. Since I was younger I've always had a sixth sense when it came to judging people. Yeah yeah, I know that no one is supposed to judge... but come on now! Anyone who claims that they don't make predetermined judgements is full of shit. It's human nature. Which brings me back to Tracey. I have a good feeling about him; been feeling like that since I first saw him on the horse. Makes me wonder what the hell he's doing with Oak of all people? I'm almost positive that, if we had met under different circumstances, Tracey and me could have become really good friends. I feel him flop down on the other end of the futon and see his beer floating above my head.

"Here, take it. I only brought them because I know that you're a bartender. Personally, I'm not one for drinking." He offered.

"Thanks. That's really thoughtful of you." He shrugged.

"Well shit, I'm only sorry that there's no real alcohol on this boat. I couldn't imagine how you're feeling right now."

I turned my head to look at him. Honestly, I wasn't expecting that. Nor did I expect the reaction that came with it. I find myself wanting to confide in him: a guy that I've just met! I chuckle to myself in disbelief. Apparently this wasn't lost on Tracey.

"You're a strange one, Misty. First, you're not afraid of being kidnapped by public enemy number one; then you actually have the balls to yell and swear at Gary; and NOW you're here laying down, drinking beer with a guy you don't know, and laughing all the while!"

"Would you like to know how I feel Tracey?" I ask him.

This time it's Tracey's turn to be shocked. I see his eyes widen and he rapidly blinks in an effort to hide it. I sit up and he does the same, still surprised. Way I figure, if I were in his shoes I'd probably be bugged out too. You go and kidnap a broad, only to have her be totally reasonable and willing to open up and talk about "feelings and shit." Yeah, definitely strange. Hahahaha. Whatever, I was never really a conventional woman by any stretch of the words. I see Tracey smile at me and nod his head, confirming that he is, indeed, curious about me. I sigh and readjust, making myself comfortable. I notice that Tracey's giving me an incredulous look again and I remember that I'm wearing underwear and chaps. Guess spreading my legs is another one of those things Tracey can add to his list of Misty strangeness.

"I think I'm more annoyed then anyhting else. I really thought that Oak was my friend- although I didn't know that Quercos was really the asshole- and that betrayal fucking hurts. I didn't know him for long at all, but he had become a confidante. Silly huh? Oak really is every bit as charming as the stories make him out to be."

Tracey looked like he was going to say something, but I quickly cut him off.

I can honestly say that I'm not scared; and I still can't figure out why I'm not, heh. I'm sure you know that I was supposed to be getting married later today and that you interrupted my going away party. But, just because you were cool enough to bring me beer, I'll let you in on a little secret. Not long before my abduction I was thinking about how I would leave my life of bartending behind for well to do married life. I felt a lot more fear in that moment then I have the entire time I've been on this adventure."

I sighed and continued.

"Compared to the fears and resentment I'd been feeling lately, this is a fucking cake walk. It's like a morbid, sadistic vacation that I didn't sign up for. The fact remains that I'm a sheriff's fiance. I'm sure that Ash has the whole region looking out for me by now. And I'm sure that, when the time is right, Oak will ransom me off for a fortune that Ash _will_ pay. Life will go on."

The door opened but I paid it no heed, I barely even noticed.

"So, for the moment, all I am is annoyed. Why the fuck do I have to be a pawn in this little manpride game. If you ask me, Gary should just ambush Ash in an alleyway and they can whip out the rulers and measure which one has the bigger penis. At least that way I get left out." I finished.

Tracey was staring at me, open mouthed. Kind of makes him resemble a fish, actually. I'm about to laugh, but a clapping noise makes me jump ten feet into the air. Guess we weren't alone.

"Man, that was the best thing I've heard all day." A guy said.

I size up this new stranger, taking a good look at him. I recognize him as one of the other horseriders- one of Gary's gang. Now that I think about it, I didn't actually have the chance to get a close up look at the guy; guess now will have to do. His burgundy hair is well kept, giving him a more clean image. It appears that his normal clothes are all black; but, like everyone in Gary's Goon Squad, he's wearing a trenchcoat. His trenchcoat is white in color, making a really vibrant contrast with his all black undergarments. Just by the way he holds himself I can tell that he's a casanova. Tracey snapped out of his stupor and looked over his shoulder, nodding to "Casanova" in greeting. "Casanova" grinned and nodded back then turned to me and did a mini bow. Hahaha, suave.

"Breakfast is ready. Considering none of us got any sleep yet I'm assuming that we're all going to crash here pretty soon. Might as well eat first." Tracey nodded.

"Got a point there. You hungry Misty?" He asked me.

"Now that you mention it, food does sound pretty good." I smiled.

"Good! It's settled then, let's go!"

"Casanova" led me and Tracey through the ship until I eventually heard the sounds of breakfast conversation. Tracey went on ahead and I quickly tried to follow suit; but was held back. I turned to face "Casanova," confusion evident on my face. He shrugged and scratched the back of his head, as if he had something to say but couldn't figure out how. Strange. I patiently waited while he gathered his words, eventually extending his hand. I looked at it, then at him, before sighing and grasping it with my own, ready to shake. Sure as hell didn't expect him to raise it to his lips and kiss it though.

"I hope you realize that, while we are bad men, we are not exactly bad at heart. My name's Rudy."

"I would tell you my name, but I'm sure you konw all about me." Rudy smiled at me.

"You've got that right Miss Waterflower. Kidnapping the Sheriff's main squeeze isn't really something to joke around with."

Somehow I feel as if irony is lost on his nonchalant tone.

"Casanova"- who I now know is called Rudy- grabs my hand and takes me into the kitchen. I'm starting to understand Oak's reasoning- help me- when he didn't want me to screw up his relations with Team Aqua. From the looks of it, there isn't really much of a strong connection: we're on a huge pirate ship, yet Gary's band keeps getting sardined. Our room is the equivlent of a closet; and now we're cramped into the kitchen while I can hear loud voices coming from, what I'm assuming is, a mess hall. It seems like the two groups don't really want to associate with each other. Heh, that's probably why there's so much liquor. Team Aqua wants us to get boozed up and just pass out so that they don't have to think about anything... great. I'm thinking like a damned criminal. That's the fucking opposite of the high-life society I'm supposed to be aiming for.

"Oh man, I told you to grab Tracey but you come back with a bitch." Oak said from the table, obviously exasperated.

Rudy grinned in response and paid him no heed, taking a seat at the table and pulling me into the seat next to him. I'm convinced this guy's a godsend. SERIOUSLY. You try being stuck in my position and see how you feel about someone who brings you to dinner and insists you sit down even when you're not necessarily wanted by everyone around. Speaking of being stuck in my position, you wanna know what you'd do if you were me? Hahaha, well I'll tell you. I look at the table and the random crap foods spread out before finding what I wanted. Yup, you guessed it, booze. I suppose it's safe to say that I'm an alcoholic, but at the moment I could give less of a shit. I pour myself some of the stuff and take a sip, testing it out. Smiling, I pour myself a whole glass. This is the illegal shit. Obviously homemade, but so much more potent... just what I need right now.

"And what do you think you're doing?" Oak asks me pointedly.

"Pouring myself a drink." I reply simply.

"Great. A rude bitch to boot."

"Oh c'mon Gary, she's just trying to get a drink." Rudy spoke up for me.

I guess Oak wasn't as amused by this.

"Don't forget who you're talking to Rudy; think with the wrong head too much and you'll become a pussy whipped bitch. That would be pathetic."

Rudy immediately went silent and returned to his meal. It fucking sucks. In the process of insulting Oak in my head I tend to keep forgetting that he's a deadly criminal. He even invokes fear into his "friends," if this band of outlaws can even be called that much. I take another sip of my drink- damn that is some strong ass shit! Just by observing it's easy to tell that Oak is closest to Tracey: they seem to be able to hold conversations without Oak flipping his lid. I don't know how I feel about this really. I consider Tracey to be an ally of sorts, but if he's Oak's second in command that puts a new spin on things. I'm not stupid enough to think that Tracey will be an honest confidante, especially with the tight leash Oak seems to have on this operation, but I didn't expect him to actually be friends with the asshole. Glancing around the table I finally notice someone who I hadn't noticed earlier.

This guy has purple hair, about shoulder length. Like the rest of the gang- sans Rudy's more polished look- he's wearing the trenchcoat cowboy suit. You know, I'm starting to think that it's some sort of staple for these guys. The thing that bugs me about this guy are his eyes. They seem so hard and steely, like he hasn't had a good anything in a while, and the glare on his face seems to be stuck. Shit, even Oak doesn't have anything to say to him. I somehow get the idea that I should just stay the fuck away from this guy. Woman's instinct... SHIT. As if he heard my thoughts, the guy turned to look at me. I feel the goosebumps growing on my arms as he bores holes into me. Seriously creepy. Honestly, this guy probably bugs a whole hell of a lot more than Oak does at the moment.

"Paul, have you met Misty yet?" Tracey asked.

"Not formally."

Paul returns to his meal, as if I weren't even worth the time. A split second later he gets up and leaves, taking his plate with him.

"Don't take it personally, he's kind of an ass to everyone." Rudy smiles at me.

"Oh believe me, it'll take a lot more than a man with _purple_ hair to offend me."

"Like a backstabbing bounty hunter?"

"Go fuck yourself Oak."

I reach across the table and refill my now empty glass. Maybe a full glass this time--heaven knows I fucking need this. I put the bottle back on the table and hear a _thunk_ noise. Immediately the temperature at the table drops 10 degrees and I notice my "friends" suddenly get solemn looks on their faces...oh. Not even a full inch from my hand is a damned foot-long butcher's knife wedged into the table. Just fucking peachy. So now, not only does Oak apparently want to ransom and/or kill me, he apparently wants me to catch an anal case of tetanus while he's at it. You know, I'm starting to think I must of murdered hundreds of babies in cold blood or something in a past life; karma's such a bitch. Obviously my new allies aren't coming to my aid anytime soon either. Well fuck it. They might fear Oak like he's some kind of monster, but here's the fucking cold, hard truth--

"I told you not to speak to me like that."

--I'm already sick of his bullshit.

"Or What? You'll beat me? Kill me? Well go the fuck ahead! Take a good at my body, Dumbass; I'm sure even you're smart enough to notice the scars. I can take a god damn hit and trust me, I will die before I give you the sadistic satisfaction of hearing me scream. And shit, you killing me might even be doing me a favor. At the very least you'd be saving my ass from a life as a bright and shiny reformed slut trophy wife! Then again, I suppose you could threaten me with rape...but guess what? Been there and fucking had the shit done already! And compared to what I had to endure from that scumbag, sleeping with you might even be considered pleasurable. I'll make this plain and fucking simple, Oak. I may have told you shit back at Poison, but don't be retarded enough to DARE think for a single moment that you fucking know me."

I grabbed my drink and stalked back to the room. Antisocial Paul is here, but I can't say I give two shits. He certainly won't bother trying to talk to me and that, honestly, is a relief. At the moment, there's really nothing I'd rather do than just sit in a corner of this dingy hole in the wall and drink my booze. I bet I'd catch a pretty good buzz if I drank it all in one go. Heh, it'll probably burn like hell but that's kind of the price to pay for only having one glass to last me the rest of the night. Morning? Fuck, I have no idea what time it is anymore. Whatever, it's not really important anyways...guh. Damn, that seriously is some heavy duty alcohol! Just what I fucking needed. I look up just as Rudy walks into the room. He's too scared to meet my eyes, but what did I really expect? No matter how nice he wants to be, his balls are on a tight leash that only Oak has access to.

Maybe that's why I fail to fear or--frankly--give a shit about this scenario and don't think twice about being a bitch to Oak. Whether I get rescued, ransomed, or murdered the end result is still the same: NO MORE GARY "DUMBASS" OAK. Rudy, on the other hand is trapped for life. More than anyone I know that there's no such thing as redemption. People will only ever see who you've been in your life. That's saying that Rudy actually wanted to change, which is doubtful. As much as I hate these fuckers I know that there's a reason that they're at the top--they're really fucking good at what they do. And, to be that good means that they have to trust each other enough to function as a team. Which brings my logic full circle. The boss is probably furious at me, making me a liability. If Rudy showed me any kind of sympathy--apparently including acknowledgement--then he would be at risk of invoking Oak's wrath upon himself. And, when you're part of a well oiled machine that you're trapped in until death comes banging at your door...well, it would just be flat out stupid of him.

"You really should have kept your mouth shut."

I look up from the floor and into Tracey's eyes. When the fuck did he even come in?! I'm only mildly surprised he had the balls to say anything to me. Considering how close he seems to be with Gary, it would only make sense that he would have the most leeway within the group. But, for the same reason, I'm kind of shocked that he didn't come in here, guns blazing, calling me a bitch and threatening me with the butcher's knife himself. In fact, he actually looks...apologetic? Bullshit, must be the booze seeing this. Fuck thinking. Hurts my head. I look up and notice how small the room really is with the four of us in here. Seriously. How the hell are we all going to sleep in here?! Hang on, not WE. Them and me. How the hell are them and me going to sleep in here?! Fuck, now that just sounds retarded. UGH! Whatever the hell, there's no fucking way five people are going to be able to sleep in here. Maybe Oak will come storming in here and decide to throw me overboard for my insubordination. No hang on, I'm not his subordinate so that wouldn't work...man, definitely have to stop thinking so much when inebriated.

The door slams open and in walks Oak.

He grabs my hand and roughly pulls me up from my sitting position. Without a word or even look over his shoulder to the others he drags me out of the room. Dammit! I wasn't serious about being thrown overboard! It's a lame way to die. I always figured I'd get a bullet to the head or go out fighting over something I believed in. Even bad people are heroes in our own heads! But death by shark? Pretty fucking lame. We pass the staircase to the main deck and I feel my heartbeat go back to a normal speed. I should probably be shitting myself. He's probably taking me to some private room--I seriously doubt he'll be sleeping with everyone else whatever the case. But I seriously don't give a shit! Let the asshole do something unthinkable because as far as I'm concerned today was a god damned victory.

I'm not going to be eaten by a fucking shark.


	6. NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS

**CALLING ALL READERS!!**

**So I haven't written in a while and TOTALLY feel like getting some work done…but I'm way too indecisive for my own good. I have a bunch of ideas for all of my stories and want to know where to start. If you have a certain story you'd like me to update than I ask that you please go to my page and participate in my poll. Cast your vote for which story I should get to work on!**

**The poll will close on Valentines Day.**

**THANK YOU ALL FOR READING MY FICS!**

**~A Nobody**


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